Human Nature
by lisakodysam
Summary: When Blythe Amell is conscripted and forced to leave the Circle Tower, Anders and a disillusioned Cullen uncover a dark secret of the Chantry's and are determined to expose it. Rated M for expletives & M/M and F/M sex. F/Amell, M/Surana, Cullen, Anders
1. Prologue

**A million thanks to my Beta Reader, Jen!**

**The Chant of Light and all characters in this story, with the exception of Blythe and Allis, belong to Bioware.**

**x~~~~~~~~~~x**

Anders strutted through the library, followed by two tranquil mages, who were helping him to move his belongings to the first floor of the Tower. He'd passed his harrowing the day before, and after a long sleep in his bunk to recuperate, looked forward to sleeping in a double bed, in a relatively private alcove.

_Hooray for me! _He chuckled to himself, winking at every female apprentice that passed him. _No more fumbled trysts in corners. I can take them back to my __**boudoir **__now, or, failing that, at least I can crack one off without worrying that the person on the top bunk will hear. Excellent!_

He and the tranquil mages, all heavily laden with robes, books, linens and bottles, began to ascend the steps to the first floor. Two Templars flanked the door, and courteously opened it for him. The Templars were nothing if not courteous, but didn't seem to possess any other redeeming human qualities, Anders noted to himself, as he nodded at the two inscrutable masks now passing behind him.

He thanked the two tranquils for their assistance and slapped their backs as they placed his belongings on his new double bed. They looked at him blankly and said "you are welcome" in unison before slowly turning and walking away.

He shuddered. Tranquil mages gave him the creeps. _That could have been you, _he thought to himself. _After they caught me the last time I was sure they'd make me tranquil. Why didn't they? _He mused, then shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, they can't do it now, can they? Fools." He muttered to himself, as he began making plans for escape attempt number 5.

"Nice to have your own space at last, isn't it, Anders?"

Anders turned around, startled. "Cullen!" He and the Templar shook hands.

The only Templar Anders considered worthy of his time, Cullen had only been in the Tower for a few months, having previously been assigned to the Chantry in Redcliffe. He wasn't as aloof or intimidating as the other Templars, and very rarely wore a helm, which made a lot of difference when talking to him. He was a typical Chantry boy, shy and a little awkward, also very handsome, which made him popular with the female apprentices and mages, who teased him mercilessly. Anders often joked with Cullen that he was his only true rival in the Tower for the women's affections, a sentiment that made the bashful Templar blush from head to toe.

Cullen released Anders' hand and spoke. "I wanted to congratulate you on your harrowing. You were onto that Mouse character right from the start. We could hear you talking to it. Most apprentices don't cotton on until the end, when he asks them to help him leave the Fade. Well done."

"Thanks, Cullen. It was easier than I thought it would be. I'm half expecting Irving to accost me and tell me that it was only a practice, and now I have to do my _real _harrowing, and will have to battle a Pride Demon or something!"

Cullen folded his arms and chuckled. "No, Anders. That _was _the Harrowing, I promise you."

"Well that's a relief! I know you Templars aren't supposed to lie. I feel much better now."

"We aren't supposed to do a lot of things," said Cullen thoughtfully. "But some still do…"

Anders stopped arranging his belongings and lowered his voice. "Yeah, I heard about that. Macintosh being caught with…Liselle, wasn't it?" Cullen nodded.

Anders had _known _Liselle. In fact, she had _known _most of the Apprentices on the first floor. It was probably only a matter of time before she was caught…but with a Templar? Not very smart.

"What will happen to them?" he asked.

Cullen sighed heavily. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but you'll find out tomorrow anyway. This is between you and me, alright?"

Anders nodded quickly. "I promise."

"They're going to make Liselle tranquil. They don't think her abilities are good enough for her to become a full mage anyway. As for Macintosh…apparently this is the second time he's been caught with an apprentice. The first time, they were found in an embrace. This time, though…he was literally caught with his pants down. It's Aeonar for him." He sighed again and shook his head.

Anders stared at his feet. "Shit."

They stood in silence for a few moments. Anders stepped outside his alcove and looked around. He moved close to Cullen and whispered. "Look, you should be careful yourself, Cullen. There's…talk. Whether it's true or not, I don't know."

A deep line appeared between Cullen's eyebrows. "Talk? What do you mean?"

"Concerning you and Blythe Amell."

"What?" Cullen backed away from Anders, a florid pink flush rising from his neck to his face. "W-What kind of talk?"

Anders sighed. "That your relationship goes beyond the normal Templar/Mage relationship. She also passed her harrowing yesterday, as you know. She'll be moving up here later on today. And you're assigned to this floor. You really need to be careful, Cullen."

Cullen had a slight stutter, which was exacerbated when he was nervous. "I-I-I had no i-idea…"

"Calm down. Like I said, it's just talk at the moment. You know what it's like in here. There's always some piece of gossip or rumour flying around, which is usually forgotten when the next one comes along. I'm just warning you, that's all. Maker knows, I wouldn't warn any of the other Templars."

Cullen's face was now nearly as red as his hair. "Th-thanks, Anders. I…I'll be careful."

"So…" Anders folded his arms, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Are the rumours true?"

"What? Of course not!" Cullen cried angrily, his voice catching in his throat.

Anders coolly regarded the red-faced Templar. "I thought Templars aren't supposed to tell lies?" he bluffed, seeing if he could catch him out.

"I…I'm not, Anders. By the Maker, nothing has ever happened between us," Cullen stuttered, his voice now quieter.

Anders relented. "Alright. For what it's worth, I believe you…I think. I just know you and Blythe are friendly, and she _is_ very pretty. Don't give any of these gossiping bastards any ammunition. I like the thought of having you and her on the same floor as me, and I don't want them moving either of you."

"I'll do my best, Anders. I…um, I'd better go." He turned to leave.

"Alright. Do you fancy a game of cards when you knock off?"

Cullen turned back, his eyes narrowing. "Are you going to swindle me again?"

Anders shrugged. "Probably."

He snorted. "Alright. I'll see you in the library later on."

Anders watched Cullen as he walked back into the corridor. _You're going to get eaten alive in here, my friend_, he thought to himself.

x~~~~~~~~~~x

Anders was soundly trouncing Cullen at cards when she wafted in. Both men looked up at Blythe, who was followed by _four _tranquil mages. There was something about Blythe that set her apart from the other female apprentices – well, mages, now she'd passed her harrowing.

Some of the others tried too hard. They'd wear their hair in all kinds of configurations, they'd wear make-up, often too much; and some of the outfits they wore left very little to the imagination.

Blythe's beauty was effortless. Her hair was shoulder-length, thick, wavy and medium brown. She always wore it down. She seemed to be forever blowing strands of it off of her face. Her skin was clear and pale, and she never wore a scrap of make-up. Her eyes were a pretty cornflower blue and heavy-lidded, making her appear to be half-asleep or in a daydream. Her mouth was neither full nor thin, but turned up at the ends, giving the impression that she was always smiling a little, even when she was not; and nobody in the Tower, save Mr Wiggums, had ever seen a glimpse of her legs or cleavage. She dressed very elegantly for someone so young. She was tall and willowy, but had some flesh on her.

She wore a midnight blue and silver robe, which clung to her in all the right places, but was not too tight. As she passed the two men, Cullen stood up, followed by Anders, after the mage realised that was the polite thing to do when a female entered the room.

"Would you like any assistance, Miss?" asked Cullen, taking a couple of steps forward.

She flashed him a radiant smile. "Oh, no thank you, Ser Cullen. We can manage well enough."

"How come you get four people to help you?" asked Anders indignantly.

She shrugged. "I'm a girl. We have more clothes and useless junk, I suppose." With that, she and the tranquil ascended the steps to the first floor.

Anders cocked his head and stared at Cullen. "Have you been running, or something?"

"What do you mean?" asked Cullen nonchalantly, knowing full well what he meant.

"Your face is bright red, _Ser _Cullen!"

"Well, it is very warm in here."

"Warm? In the Tower? In the depths of winter? Hah!"

"It's the uniform. I'm not naked under this, you know." He pulled part of his skirt up, revealing chainmail leggings and greaves.

Anders chuckled. "So now I know what a Templar wears under their skirt. How very predictable. Is that to protect you or to keep the women away? I expect most of them would give up out of frustration after trying to get that lot off."

Cullen looked at him evenly and folded his arms. "So we're going to have one of _these _conversations again, are we?"

x~~~~~~~~~~x

Blythe was delighted with her new…well, what would you call it? It wasn't a room, exactly, as it had no door, but it was a private space with a double bed, her own bathtub, cupboards and an armchair. A large velvet curtain hung at the entrance.

This part of the wing was deserted, as it had been reserved for the dozen or so apprentices who would be taking their harrowings over the coming weeks. She pulled the curtain closed and lay on her huge bed and stretched.

_Bliss! _She thought. _No more sleeping in a dorm, in a bunk bed, trying to get to sleep amidst the sounds of snoring and the ever-present clanking of Templar armour._

Thinking of Templars made her think of _him_. He was so unlike the others. Quiet, modest, bashful. He blushed and smiled gloriously whenever she spoke to him. His voice was soft but had an edge to it, like distant thunder. His hair was light auburn, cut severely short, and a thin goatee framed his generous lips. She often wondered if they had ever been kissed before.

But it was his eyes that did it for her. An unusual colour, dark amber, they seemed to stand out from the rest of his face. There was something wild and desperate within them, she fancied. They pierced her and she felt naked whenever he looked at her, which, sadly, he didn't do very often, as he usually looked at her shoes or his gauntlets when he spoke to her.

Or was it because he was forbidden to her? Because she wasn't supposed to have thoughts like this?

She heard the familiar clanking and swishing of a Templar walking by. Not knowing why, she climbed off her bed, pulled the curtain back, and peered out into the corridor. There _he_ was, making his way to the Templar quarters on the fourth floor.

"Erm, Ser Cullen?" she asked quietly, part of her wanting him not to hear.

He turned around. "Yes? Oh…um, is everything alright, Miss?"

She looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you think you could help me with something?"

"O-Of course, Miss." He made his way towards her.

She retreated back to her 'area' and closed her eyes, shaking her head. _Now what are you going to do?_

"What do you think of my new quarters?" she asked brightly as he entered.

He stopped and looked around. Her bed and the surrounding walls were swathed in red and gold fabrics and hangings. A few lit candles were dotted around, throwing dancing shadows onto the walls. A faint smile crossed his lips. "You have a flair for the dramatic, it seems."

"Come in," she beckoned. Have a look at these carvings. I think you'd like them."

He took a deep breath and looked around. Nobody was about. _I don't want to be rude. Just a quick look._

"Hmm, yes, very nice," he mumbled as he fixated on the wooden carvings sitting atop her dresser, taking care not to look anywhere else.

Blythe pulled the curtain closed and took a deep breath. _Do you know what you're doing?_

She addressed Cullen's back. "Do you have any idea how long I have waited to get onto this floor, Cullen?"

He turned around. His eyes darted to the closed curtain then back to the carving he still held in his hand. "Well," he gulped, his mouth suddenly dry, "I-I knew it would not be long before your harrowing came. And I never had any doubt you would, erm, succeed." He coughed.

"I don't mean my harrowing, Cullen," she said quietly, walking up to him and taking the carving from his hand.

"Then what _do _you mean?" he asked, his eyes wide, deep frown lines forming between his eyes.

Blythe placed the carving back onto the dresser. She walked up to Cullen and took his hands in her own. They were sweating. "It means we'll get to see more of each other. I know you like me, Cullen. I've seen the way you look at me."

He weakly tried to remove his hands from hers, but she held firmly onto them. His eyes darted around her quarters and he swallowed hard. "Miss…"

"My name's Blythe. I wish you would stop calling me _Miss_. It makes me feel old."

He looked at her shoes, his eyes blinking rapidly. He took a deep breath. "I…I…should be going."

Blythe gently released his hands. "Off you go then," she whispered.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, and stayed where he was.

She looked at him, then brought her hand up to his face and stroked his cheek, planting a kiss on the other one.

_There's the smile! _He hung his head down and grinned from ear to ear. She took his hands and held them against her cheeks. "Your turn."

"B-but…our hands are in the way."

"I know."

He looked at her mouth – half-open, and slightly upturned at the ends in a lilting half-smile. Something stirred, deep inside him, beneath his navel. Something primal. A need as basic and essential as air or water. A burning ache rose from his loins and radiated outwards. He shifted his weight, suddenly feeling unsteady.

Blythe tilted her head and drew him near. She could hear his breathing getting faster. "Kiss me," she implored.

_I don't know how._

She felt his sharp intake of breath as she removed his hands from her face and positioned them around her waist. Her own hands rested on his hair and her fingernails softly raked against his scalp. He closed his eyes and deep lines knotted his brow. He felt his stomach muscles clench tightly.

"Kiss me…" she asked again, bringing her lips to within millimetres of his. His eyes met hers. The warmth he felt radiating from her, combined with the candlelight, was intoxicating.

His will no longer his own, he moved his head closer and their lips met. His were tightly closed.

She drew back slightly and giggled. She brought her hand up to his mouth and placed her finger on his lower lip, opening his mouth. She leaned into him, took his lip into her mouth and gently tugged. She felt his body stiffen and his hands ball into fists. She drew her tongue along his top lip, achingly slowly. His hands relaxed and tenuously skimmed her waist.

Following her lead, he hesitatingly brought his tongue out, not quite knowing what to do with it. She took it into her mouth and gently sucked, at the same time tracing her fingers down his neck. A harsh grunt caught in the back of his throat as a bolt of desire shot through his body. His arms wrapped around her back and he drew her against him, surrendering himself to her tender ministrations.

There they stayed, for a long moment, lost in each other. Cullen felt dizzy and had to put one hand against the wall to brace himself. He felt his legs weaken. His entire body tingled and throbbed. Nothing had ever prepared him for this.

She murmured softly and her head fell back. Instinctively, he brought one hand up to cup the back of her head, as his mouth went to her neck and he tenderly grazed down its length. Her deep, guttural moan was like music to him.

_Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter._

"I…I'm sorry. Forgive me," he stammered as he pulled away, his breathing fast and irregular.

"It's alright, Cullen. You haven't done anything wrong."

He shook his head. His eyes were wide. "I really have to go now," he said decisively. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Blythe said sadly as he hurried away without a backward glance.

x~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen passed by the Chapel before he retired to his room. Glancing around nervously, he made sure nobody was about before he sat down on a bench near the altar.

He took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow and neck. His breathing had almost returned to normal now, but his heart still raced.

He knelt down, clasping his hands together and closed his eyes. An image of her came into his mind and refused to leave. He began to silently pray.

_Oh Maker, hear my cry: Guide me through the blackest nights. Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked. Make me to rest in the warmest places._

_My Creator, judge me whole: Find me well within your grace. Touch me with fire that I be cleansed. Tell me I have sung to Your approval._

_For You are the fire at the heart of the world and comfort is only Yours to give._

x~~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen wearily pulled his boots on. Putting on the many layers of Templar armour seemed even more of a chore today than usual. He was exhausted. He'd hardly slept a wink during the night. He stood up and at once felt weighed down by his armour and the troubling thoughts he could not shake off, no matter how many times he'd prayed.

He was on duty in the library this morning, then had a harrowing to attend after lunch. _She _would be in the library. She spent every morning in there before lessons began, talking to her apprentice friends. His stomach knotted. He concentrated on his breathing. _In for four, out for seven. In for four, out for seven…_

He began the long trudge down to the library, nodding at fellow Templars and mages as he walked. Finally he reached it and took a deep breath as he entered. As he walked over to the Templar on duty, he could see her in his peripheral vision. There were many people milling around the library, but he saw none except her.

"Morning, Ross. I'm here to relieve you."

Ross nodded in greeting. He was wearing a full Templar helm so it was impossible to read his expression. "Glad to see _you_. I'm ready for my bed. Listen, keep an eye on _that_ one," he said quietly, nodding over at Jowan. "He's been pestering Amell about something. He's acting shifty, even for him. He's up to something, I tell you."

"Alright," said Cullen, looking in their general direction, but not directly at them.

"Off to bed I go then," chirped Ross. "Maker, Cullen. You look pale. Rough night?"

"You could say that," he smiled weakly.

Ser Ross departed. Cullen positioned himself near the doorway and observed the activity in the library. Blythe and Jowan were deep in conversation. She had her back to Cullen, and hadn't noticed him enter.

She was wearing a deep burgundy gown, matching the colour of Cullen's skirt. Jowan paced up and down, causing Blythe to turn around, meeting Cullen's eyes for a second. His stomach flipped over and he suddenly felt very hot. _Why didn't I wear my helm?_

Blythe and Jowan's conversation seemed to be becoming heated. Cullen watched them intently, trying to read their lips, with no success. Anger flashed across Blythe's face. She grabbed Jowan's arm and led him into a corner then put her hands on her hips, again with her back to Cullen. Jowan's face was a mask of misery and contrition.

Cullen didn't understand how the two of them had become friends. Blythe was popular, outgoing, and made friends easily, whereas Jowan kept to himself, never smiled, and whined incessantly about his non-existent problems and how hard done by he was. He was forever distracting the other apprentices from their studies.

_Well, he won't be a problem for much longer, _Cullen mused. Irving intended to make Jowan tranquil.

Blythe suddenly scooped her books up in her arms and sped towards the far exit of the library. Jowan stood rooted to the spot. Cullen approached him, feeling a flash of anger towards this snake-like apprentice.

"What was that all about, Jowan?"

Jowan almost jumped out of his skin. He was sweating. "Oh-oh, nothing, Ser Cullen. Just a misunderstanding, that's all."

Cullen's face was hard and accusing. "It didn't _look_ like nothing to me. And what are you so nervous about?"

"Nervous? Me? No! I'm just…hot, that's all."

_Hot?_ Thought Cullen. _I've tried that one myself. _"Get back to what you were doing, Jowan. I don't want any of your nonsense today. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes, Ser." Jowan scurried away.

Cullen looked towards the far exit of the library. He wanted to go after her and get to the bottom of this, but was unable to leave his post for the next four hours. What had he said to her? _And why are you so concerned, anyway? People are always quarrelling in here._

x~~~~~~~~~~~x

After a very boring couple of hours in the library, an incensed- looking Anders came charging in and headed straight for Cullen.

"There you are! I've been looking for you!" His eyes were blazing. He put his hands on his hips.

Cullen panicked for a moment, wondering if Blythe had told him about last night.

"Have you seen that worm Jowan anywhere? He's really upset Blythe. She won't tell me what it's about. But _he'll _tell me, once I get my hands on him!"

_She's really upset? _Cullen thought, not liking how that made him feel. "They were in here earlier, Anders. They seemed to be arguing. Then she walked out. I asked him what it was about, but he skirted the issue."

"Well, I can't find him anywhere," said Anders, looking around. "Shame there aren't any rocks in here. I'd be sure to find him underneath one of them."

Cullen nodded and laughed a little. "Maker, it's boring in here today, Anders. If you find him, bring him back here, would you? I could do with some entertainment."

"I certainly will," laughed Anders. "Fear not, Ser Knight. You have a nice, juicy harrowing this afternoon, don't you? I bet they're always good for a laugh."

Cullen's face hardened and he shook his head. "Quite the opposite, Anders. I dread every single one of them. I know some of the other Templars get excited about them, but not me. I'm always relieved once they're over."

Anders looked at him sympathetically. "Have you ever had to…?"

"No," Cullen stated firmly. "And I hope I never have to, either."

x~~~~~~~~~~~x

The time of the harrowing had finally arrived. Cullen felt so weary he had half a mind to duck out, but the thought of Gregoir's furious face and the inevitable tongue-lashing that would follow made him reconsider. He intended to stop off at his quarters on the way to the harrowing chamber to take some lyrium.

At the stairs to the third floor he made way for two men descending the steps. One of them was a regular visitor to the tower and a friend of Irving's. Duncan. Something to do with the Grey Wardens. Accompanying him was an elven mage, Allis Surana, his latest recruit for the Wardens. The two men were deep in conversation. Cullen greeted them as they passed, and they in turn politely acknowledged him.

Cullen continued on along the third floor. He was about to pass Senior Enchanter Irving's office, when Blythe exited from there hurriedly, nearly colliding with him.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Cullen. I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, though it was obvious she wasn't.

Blythe was breathing heavily and her eyes darted around, looking everywhere but at him.

"I, um…I can't talk now. You must be busy, anyway. I won't keep you." She walked away.

He caught up to her. "What's wrong?" he implored, a tight knot forming in his stomach. "Is this something to do with what Jowan said to you earlier?"

"Oh. You saw that, did you?" she looked like she was going to cry. Cullen felt panic rise in his chest.

"It was something stupid. You know what Jowan's like!" she laughed, but her eyes were wild and her breathing erratic. "Are…_you_ alright, Cullen?"

"Me?" he asked in surprise. "Why do you ask?"

"Well…" she whispered. "I was worried that…last night. You seemed upset when you left. I've been worried about it all day. Look, I know what happened was…inappropriate. But you didn't break any of your vows, Cullen. Remember that." She looked into his eyes. "And I certainly don't regret what happened, even if you do."

Cullen took a deep breath. He didn't know what to say to her. One half of him was ashamed and contrite. The other half of him longed for her to kiss him again, to touch him and whisper to him, right here where they stood.

"I…um…" he trailed off. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I didn't. At the time, I was…um…well, it's alright. Really."

She met his gaze. Her eyes were full of regret and longing. "Cullen…if I were to do something really stupid, would you still…" she looked down. "I have to go, Cullen." Her voice started to break. "I hope the harrowing goes well."

He watched her walk away, wondering what she meant by _really stupid_. Whatever it was, it was eating away at her. His tiredness was replaced by sudden fury directed towards Jowan. _I wonder if Anders has found him yet. After the harrowing, I'll find Anders and we'll look for him together. I want to know what's going on. And what was she doing in Irving's office?_

He had no more time to ponder this. They would be ready in the harrowing chamber soon. He quickened his pace and headed upstairs to his quarters, needing his lyrium more than ever.

x~~~~~~~~~~~x

The harrowing over, Cullen returned to his quarters. He firmly closed and locked the door and fumbled with the straps of his breastplate. He felt like it was crushing him. He finally undid them and hoisted the heavy plate above his head, placing it on the ground. He rotated his head and massaged the back of his neck, trying to remove the painful knots.

He sat on his bed and put his head in his hands. The harrowing had been a disaster. The apprentice was an enthusiastic, but not terribly bright, young lad named Scott. Cullen had felt he wasn't yet ready for his harrowing, but who was he to question Gregoir and Irving?

A kind and helpful soul, Scott had fallen hook, line and sinker for the demon's entreaty to release him from the Fade, and it subsequently possessed him with terrifying efficiency. Cullen was the Templar assigned to strike the killing blow in this eventuality and he didn't hesitate, driven by the desire to rid poor Scott of this evil.

Gregoir had congratulated him for his quick reaction and shook his hand. Cullen didn't even feel Gregoir's hand grasp his. The other Templars shook his hand as well, and patted him on the back.

_Am I supposed to feel proud of myself? _Cullen meshed his fingers together to stop his hands from shaking. _Is this what my life is going to be like now?_

His eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to spill onto his cheeks. He swallowed hard and stood up, retrieving a phial of lyrium from one of his drawers. He gulped it down hard, knowing he'd already had too much today, but no longer caring as he felt it do its work. He felt warmth and strength wash over his body.

Forgetting that he'd removed his heavy breastplate, and was only wearing his chainmail and skirt, he left his quarters to find Anders.

Cullen would probably find him in the library. As he walked along the first floor corridor, he passed the wing where Blythe's quarters were. Her curtain was pulled across. He hesitated, not knowing what to do. Then he fancied he heard a muted sob.

_Is she crying?_

He took a step nearer. There was no doubt about it. His concern for her outweighed any hesitancy on his part. He stood nearer the curtain. "Blythe?" he asked softly.

No response. He stood for a moment, not sure if she'd heard him.

"Who's there?" she asked, her voice strained with a defeated tone.

"It is I, Cullen. I want to talk to you."

After a moment, the curtain was pulled across. She turned away from him. He closed the curtain. A pregnant silence hung between them.

He held her arm and positioned himself in front of her. She looked at the floor.

"Blythe? Whatever's the matter?"

She shook her head. "I…I heard about the harrowing, Cullen. I'm so sorry. I know what kind of a man you are. It must have hit you hard."

He swallowed hard as he tried to master his own grief. He brought his hand up to stroke her hair then hesitated. Seeing this, she took his hand and placed it against her cheek, leaning into it. She closed her eyes.

"I'm asking what's upset you, Blythe. What is going on between you and Jowan?"

"I…I can't tell you. I wish I could, but…"

"Look," said Cullen firmly. "Either you tell me, or Anders and I are going to hunt him down and make him tell us."

She laughed unexpectedly. She looked up at him, her eyes red. "Please don't do that. It'll only make things worse. I'm not deliberately trying to keep this from you. But I have no choice. Irving…" she stopped before she said too much.

"Irving? What does he have to do with this?"

"Cullen…please, just hold me."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and lay her head on his shoulder. She could get closer to him without his heavy armour getting in the way. _You'll probably despise me when you find out what I'm about to do. Just hold me so I can remember this moment._

Cullen's arms went around her and he cradled the back of her head in his hand. He looked down and whispered to her. "I wish you would tell me. Maybe I could help you?"

She brought her head up and placed her hands on his face. "You're such a good man, Cullen. That's why I…why I like you."

He looked into her eyes and saw that same look of regret he'd seen earlier. His stomach knotted. "Blythe…"

He removed his gauntlets and dropped them to the floor. His bare hands skimmed her cheeks, moving down to her neck. She closed her eyes and they were irresistibly drawn together, their lips gently meeting. Cullen removed his hands from her face and wrapped his arms around her neck, drawing himself deeper in. _I don't regret this. How can this be wrong?_

x~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen had left Blythe when he had to return to duty for a few hours before knocking off for the evening. They'd sat on her bed and talked, kissed and stroked each other, but had ventured no further than that. He came away feeling like he was finally getting to know her, as a person, and not as the fantasy figure she'd been to him since his arrival at the Tower.

He was determined to find out what had upset her so much. He went looking for Anders and Jowan, before he started duty, but there was no sign of either of them. He was supposed to report to Gregoir if Anders couldn't be found, but something stopped him. _Did he find Jowan? I hope he hasn't done anything stupid._

He resumed his duty pacing the corridors of the first floor. This was the worst part of Templar duty, next to harrowings. The long, tedious hours spent standing still, or walking up and down the same corridor, with nothing ever happening. A few mages stopped and chatted, but the three hours drew out tortuously slowly.

The end of his shift finally approached when he heard a commotion coming from downstairs. The door at the far end of the corridor flew open.

"Cullen! Get down here! We need help!"

He started to run, as much as he could run weighed down by his heavy armour. He drew his sword and descended the steps. Another Templar whom he couldn't identify due to his helm was also running, and turned and beckoned frantically to him.

_Please don't tell me Anders has absconded again. They'll put him in solitary this time._

The sight that greeted Cullen as he reached the main foyer was bizarre and horrifying. Several Templars lay groaning on the floor, drenched in what looked like blood. The floor was slick with it. A Chantry Initiate, Lily, stood weeping uncontrollably in a corner. And…_what's __**she **__doing here? _Blythe stood away from the Templars, wringing her hands. Her face was colourless and frozen in terror. Neither Lily nor Blythe had anyblood on them.

"Get after him!" One of the blood-soaked Templars shouted from the floor. Only the commanding but nasal voice identified him as Knight-Commander Gregoir.

"Who?" asked Cullen, snapping out of his trance.

"Jowan, you fools! Get after him!"

_Jowan! _Cullen and the unidentified Templar ran towards the main door. Blythe caught his eye as he passed. "I didn't know he was a blood mage, Cullen! I swear it!" she entreated.

Enraged, Cullen barged through the door to the main entrance hall. Four more Templars lay on the floor, struggling to get up. The main door to the Circle Tower was wide open.

He and the other Templar scoured the grounds, joined shortly by several bloody Templars, now recovered from the attack. There was no sign of Jowan. Giving up, they went back inside, fearing Gregoir's wrath at their failure.

As Cullen entered the foyer, Lily, flanked by two Templars, was being led away. Gregoir, Irving and Blythe were having a heated discussion. Duncan, Irving's friend from the Grey Wardens, was there too, as was Allis Surana. Cullen stood just close enough to hear them talking, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Your antics have made a mockery of this Circle! What are we to do with you?" Gregoir bellowed at Blythe.

"Er…nothing? I was just doing as I was instructed!" she bit back angrily. She _hated _Gregoir. "Tell him, Senior Enchanter!"

Irving folded his arms and shook his head wearily.

Gregoir rounded on her. "So, you compound your folly with lies?"

"What?" cried Blythe, pointing at Irving. "He _told _me to go with Jowan to the repository!"

"I can vouch for her, Knight-Commander," said Cullen, stepping forward. "I saw her leaving Irving's office earlier today. She was distressed, and when I asked her what was wrong, she told me she was not allowed to say anything."

Cullen and Blythe looked at one another, perhaps for a moment too long. Irving and Gregoir exchanged glances. _They know! _Thought Cullen.

Gregoir looked at Cullen with barely disguised disgust. "So, _you _are calling Senior Enchanter Irving a liar, as well? And what business is this of yours? Why do _you _care what happens to this mage?"

Cullen folded his arms. "I did not accuse Irving of lying. How could he lie? His silence is deafening."

Gregoir was not used to his Templars standing up to him, and knowing Cullen's feelings for Blythe, he knew that threatening him would get him nowhere. "Get back up to your floor, Cullen," he barked. "We need to decide what is to be done with this one."

Duncan, sensing that things were about to go ill, intervened. "If I may, Knight-Commander? I'm not only looking for mages to join the King's army, I'm also recruiting for the Grey Wardens. Irving spoke highly of this mage, and I would like her to join the Warden ranks."

_I bet you spoke highly of her, _thought Cullen. _This was the plan all along wasn't it? To break us up!_

"Absolutely not!" shrieked Gregoir. "This mage has made a mockery of the Circle, and now she is to be rewarded by joining the Grey Wardens? Never! This one will be taken to Aeonar, along with Lily."

"What! Have you lost your mind?" shouted Cullen angrily, turning to face Gregoir.

"I told you to _get back onto your floor_, Ser Cullen! _At once!"_

Duncan interrupted. "I take this mage under my wing, and bear all responsibility for her actions." He turned and addressed Gregoir firmly. "I _will_ conscript her if necessary."

"Wait!" cried Blythe, looking at Cullen and panicking. "Don't I get a say in this? I don't _want _to leave the Tower! This is my home! I have friends here! Please, don't make me leave!"

Gregoir folded his arms and addressed Blythe, whilst glaring across at Duncan. "No, you don't _have_ to become a Grey Warden! You can go to Aeonar instead! Make your choice, mage," he spat.

Duncan placed his hand on Blythe's shoulder. "Come," he spoke softly. "Your new life awaits."

Blythe followed Duncan and Allis in a daze, only pausing to look back at Cullen, who stood red-faced and open-mouthed as he watched her walk out of his life forever.

As they exited the Tower, Gregoir's voice reverberated throughout the ground floor. "This is your last chance! _Get back up to your floor!"_


	2. The final nail in the coffin

**Thank you to my Beta Reader Jen for making sense of my ramblings!**

**I'd also like to thank Nithu, Shakespira, Yvanna and Eva Galana, as well as Jen, for sticking with me and inspiring me to keep writing! :-***

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen charged through the corridors, his face red and his eyes ablaze. Loiterers and passers-by were taken aback to see this normally mild-mannered Templar looking so fearsome, and thought it best not to approach him.

He headed for Anders' quarters. As he turned and entered, he spied Anders kissing some young apprentice goodbye behind his half-closed curtain.

Anders, hearing the dreaded sound of Templar armour, spun round, aghast. "Cullen! Erm…this is not what it looks like! She was, erm…upset…"

"I don't care, Anders!" Cullen exclaimed through gritted teeth.

Anders, dismayed at Cullen's fury, nudged the girl outside. "I'll see you tomorrow, darling," and winked at her, then gave her a firm push.

Cullen sat down on the bed and dragged his fingers through his hair. His right leg was jiggling. Anders didn't even know Cullen was _capable _of being angry, and approached slowly, sitting in the armchair opposite him, and waited for him to calm down.

Cullen eventually composed himself enough to talk. Anders listened in horror as the story unfolded, and occasionally interjected with cries of "you _what?_" "the bastard!" and finally, "the Grey Wardens?"

Anders stood up and paced back and forth, his fingers meshed together behind his neck. "But the Grey Wardens…they have to kill darkspawn! She's only just passed her harrowing! And she's a healer, like me. She'll be no match for monsters like that!"

"Well, Gregoir and Irving didn't leave her much choice!" barked Cullen. "I _know _Irving put her up to it. I saw the look in his eyes!"

Anders looked at Cullen in disbelief. "But why didn't Irving say anything? He usually loves scoring points off Gregoir! I don't understand!"

Cullen stood up and rotated his shoulders, grimacing. "Oh, it's quite simple, Anders. They knew about she and I, and wanted to get rid of one of us!"

"You and her? I thought there _was _no you and her!"

Cullen sat back down and sighed, moving his head from side to side in an attempt to rid himself of the painful tension that had built up in his neck. "Look, Anders," his voice was quiet now. "When we had that conversation, I didn't lie to you. Nothing _had _happened between us. I just didn't tell you everything."

Anders looked out into the corridor and pulled the curtain fully closed. He sat back down in the chair. "So, something has happened since then?"

Cullen nodded, looking down at the floor. "Yes. But nothing sordid. We…got talking…and…well, she kissed me."

Anders' eyes widened. "Really? And what did you do?"

Cullen shrugged, a shy smile tugging at one end of his mouth. "I kissed her back," he said simply.

Anders raised his eyebrows. "I see…and you said you didn't tell me everything when we spoke before?"

Cullen looked directly at Anders, his face pale and drained. "The truth is, Anders, I had longed for that to happen from the first time I met her. Gregoir knew, maybe after seeing me talking to her one too many times, and gave me a warning."

Anders cast his eyes down as he felt a stab of pity for Cullen. "So…you had feelings for her, then?"

Cullen shrugged. "Before I came here, I had no experience of women at all, so I don't know what you'd call it. But, yes, I think…especially over the last couple of days…"

He stood up. "But none of that matters now, does it?" He said bitterly. "We're never going to see her again. I'm sorry, Anders. You knew her for much longer than I did. She was your friend. I was just some moron who giggled stupidly whenever she deigned to speak to me. There are plenty of others here who acted the same in her presence."

Anders was grieved to see Cullen, whom he considered a friend, so distraught. "I don't know if this will make you feel better or worse, Cullen, but I happen to know that Blythe did have feelings for you. She made every excuse she could to walk past you and talk to you. Yes, there were plenty of other men after her, but she wasn't interested.

Do you remember when your sash fell off somewhere in the library and you couldn't find it? She had it. She saw it fall, and she snatched it up and kept it. And remember now and again you would find little pots of liniment or soothing balm in your pockets, and didn't know how they'd got there? She made them for you. She would see how uncomfortable your armour was and would drop them into your pocket while she was talking to you."

Cullen stared at the floor, his face etched with confusion and misery. He took a deep breath and exhaled. His head pounded.

Anders sighed. "I'm going to tell you something now, Cullen, that you won't thank me for. The reason she didn't approach you sooner is because I warned her not to. I tried to convince her that nothing good would ever come of it, for either of you.

I'm sorry, Cullen. I just didn't want the two of you getting into trouble. Look what happened to Macintosh. I didn't want that for you."

Cullen felt a sting at the back of his throat. "I need to be on my own for awhile, Anders. I'll see you tomorrow."

Without another word, Cullen walked away.

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen closed and locked the door to his room and sighed heavily. He removed his gauntlets, breastplate, greaves and boots and put them to one side. Then he began the torturous task of removing his chainmail. He unhooked it piece by piece and threw each of them to the floor, realising that in the morning it would be like putting a jigsaw together. But he no longer cared.

He removed his leggings and walked over to his dresser in his smallclothes. He retrieved a pot of soothing balm from a drawer and looked at it. _So she made this for me?_ He opened the pot and sniffed the contents. There was the aroma of rosemary and mint, and something else he couldn't identify.

He sat down on his bed and melted a little of the balm between his palms. Then he rubbed the balm into each of his shoulders. He closed his eyes and imagined she was there behind him, massaging him and whispering to him softly. He took a deep breath and sighed. At last some of the tension began to leave him.

He jumped as somebody knocked his door. "Just a minute." He pulled on his leggings and a loose white shirt and opened the door.

It was Ser Duggan, one of Gregoir's lackeys. "Cullen. Gregoir wants to see you immediately." He walked away.

Too tired to care, Cullen put on his boots and trudged downstairs.

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen reached Gregoir's office and knocked. "Enter!" he heard from within, and went inside.

Gregoir was sat at his desk. He looked disapprovingly at Cullen as he entered. "Ser Cullen!" he barked, "why are you not wearing your uniform?"

Cullen clasped his hands behind his back and looked just past Gregoir, focusing on the wall. "Because I'm off duty."

Gregoir glared. "Whether you are on duty or not, I expect you to adhere to the dress code at all times! When you enter your Knight-Commander's office, you should be dressed appropriately!"

Cullen cut in. "The message was that I come _immediately. _It takes 15 minutes to put on the full set of armour. I suppose if I had done that, you would have berated me for not coming sooner."

Gregoir regarded Cullen carefully. He'd never known him to show such defiance. What had gotten into him?

Cullen folded his arms and spoke again. "Was there something you wanted?"

Gregoir stood up. "You forget yourself, Ser. You will address me as Knight-Commander!"

Cullen remained impassive. "Was there something you wanted, Knight-Commander?"

"Yes," replied Gregoir, feeling himself break into a sweat as he sat back down. "I understand that you are on friendly terms with the newly-harrowed mage, Anders. Is that correct?"

_You know it is. Why are you bothering to ask? _"That's correct, Knight-Commander."

Gregoir clasped his hands together. "Well, normally I would advise against getting too close to the mages, but in this instance we can use it to our advantage. With the departure of Blythe Amell…"

Gregoir watched Cullen for a reaction. Although Cullen's face remained unchanged, Gregoir fancied he saw a flicker cross his eyes.

"…We can probably expect an escape attempt from Anders soon. I want you to spend more time with him, gain his trust. Obviously you shouldn't ask him direct questions, but try to note his movements, who he talks to, and so on. We are monitoring his mail. Report directly to me at the end of each day, or before then if you find anything significant. Any questions?"

"None, Knight-Commander."

"Very well, Ser Cullen. You are dismissed."

Cullen crossed his arms and bowed, but it was a hollow gesture. This was the man who'd sent a young Chantry Initiate to Aeonar and would have done the same to Blythe, if Duncan hadn't intervened. Cullen had lost any remaining shred of respect he'd ever had for Gregoir.

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen entered the chapel, intending to pray to the Maker for guidance. There were several Templars in attendance this time, all on their knees in silent prayer. Cullen wondered if they too were asking for forgiveness for some perceived sin.

He found a space and knelt down, clasping his hands together. He closed his eyes, but no words came to him. He felt neither conflict, nor shame. _Perhaps I don't need guidance in this matter, _he mused.

He stood up and bowed to the statue of Andraste, bride of the Prophet. He headed back to his quarters, needing an early night. His mind was clear now. He knew what the morning would bring.

As soon as he got to his room he climbed into bed, too tired to wash or brush his teeth. He reached underneath his bed and retrieved one of the wooden carvings he had taken from Blythe's quarters before her belongings were put into storage. Yes, he had sinned by taking it, but somehow he didn't think she would mind.

He ran his fingers along its polished surface. He held it to his chest and lay back as sleep overwhelmed him.

_He awoke in Blythe's double bed. She was next to him, asleep against his chest. He watched her for a while, then ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead. She awoke and smiled at him sleepily. Her hand reached up to his chest and traced downwards, purring softly as she reached his hard, defined abdominal muscles._

_He lay on his back and stretched languidly. She positioned herself over him and brought her face close to his. Her hair brushed against his cheek as they gazed at one another. She took his hand and placed it over her breast. He could feel her heart beating against his hand._

_She brushed her lips against his cheek, and moved slowly towards his ear._

"_I love you, Cullen," she whispered._

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen was awakened the next morning by a knock on his door. It was a very particular knock, signalling that a pitcher of hot water had been left outside his door. He went to sit up then frowned, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He pulled his blankets up and looked beneath.

"Oh, no…" he groaned.

He pulled on some leggings, retrieved the water and locked the door.

After his ablutions, Cullen put his uniform on, even though he wasn't on duty until later, and headed to the library to find Anders.

Cullen reached the library and stood in the doorway until he could attract Anders' attention. Anders walked over to him, sensing that something was amiss.

"Come with me," said Cullen quietly.

He led Anders to a storeroom on the first floor. It was mostly unused, and they would be afforded privacy there. Cullen glanced around nervously as he unlocked the door and ushered Anders inside.

Anders recognised the storeroom. He'd been in there before…_entertaining_. A disturbing thought crossed his mind as Cullen locked the door, then he smiled to himself and shrugged it off.

"Would you light these candles, please, Anders?"

Anders rubbed his palms together and small flames appeared at his fingertips. He walked around, lighting a few candles dotted around the room.

Cullen sat down on a wooden box and motioned for Anders to do the same. "Anders," he began nervously. "You and I are kind of…friends, aren't we?"

"Sure, Cullen," replied Anders, the disturbing thought still at the back of his thoughts. "What's on your mind?"

Cullen sighed and was silent for a few moments. "Listen, Anders. I could get into a lot of trouble by telling you this, but I've had enough. I'm sick and tired of the game-playing and point-scoring that goes on between Gregoir and Irving. When I was at the Chantry, I had it drummed into me that mages are evil and wicked, and that we Templars are righteous and good. I was terrified when I was first sent here!

However, since my time at the Tower, I've found the opposite to be true. You mages and apprentices have always been friendly to me, and you're all good people, which is surprising, considering you're kept prisoner here and given no say at all in how your life unfolds.

The Templars, however…" he shook his head. "Most of them treat the mages with disdain, or worse. They treat you like children, like you're stupid and have to be watched and guided every second of the day. You're never given a chance to be yourselves. I've felt that to be wrong ever since I set foot in the Tower."

He leaned back and sighed. Anders looked at him in disbelief. "I never thought I would hear a Templar say anything like that, Cullen. I'm…well…I'm speechless."

Cullen leaned forward. "Gregoir has asked me to keep an eye on you. He knows we're friendly, and he suspects that you're due for another escape attempt. He wants me to get even closer to you, so I can gain your trust. I think he's hoping that you'll slip up and confide in me. But I won't do it…it would be wrong. Especially as I've…been having thoughts along those lines myself."

Anders cocked his head, not understanding. "Thoughts? What kind of thoughts?"

"I want to leave the Tower, Anders. I hate it here."

Unable to help himself, Anders laughed, then realising that Cullen wasn't joking, lowered his voice. "Just leave, then, Cullen. Request a transfer. Go back to the Chantry. It's easier for you. You, at least, have a choice."

Cullen moved around so he faced Anders directly. "You don't understand, Anders. I don't want to be a Templar anymore. I transferred here from the Chantry in Redcliffe, after they took in a heavily-pregnant apprentice. I thought they were going to help her, but she was kept under lock and key. When the baby was born, it was taken away from her. I still remember her screams. After she'd given birth, she was made tranquil."

Cullen put his head in his hands. Anders saw him wipe a tear from his eye.

Cullen continued. "I knew I couldn't remain there after that. I thought life would be different here…but with everything that's gone on lately, after young Lily was sent to Aeonar, and after poor Scott's harrowing…"

He shook his head and cleared his throat. "After Gregoir spoke to me last night, Anders, I got to thinking. One day, I could be one of the Templars sent to track you down when you escape. You know as well as I do that if you keep escaping, eventually you'll be branded a maleficar and we'll have orders to kill you. I thought about that…and I know I couldn't do it. I may as well face the truth, Anders. I'm not cut out for this life."

The two men sat in silence for a few minutes. Anders finally spoke. "Can Templars resign?"

"Oh, yes," laughed Cullen bitterly. "We can leave at any time! Only, it's not that simple."

"What do you mean?" asked Anders.

A shadow passed over Cullen's face. "When Templars take their final vows, we are given lyrium."

Anders interrupted. "But you're not a mage! You shouldn't be taking that stuff! I dread to think what kind of effect it would have on you!"

"It has an effect, alright," replied Cullen. "It makes us feel stronger, and it numbs our emotions, for a time. Supposedly, it enhances our abilities, but that is up for debate. The real effect, though, is that the more of it we take, the more we need. I have to take it 4 or 5 times a day, Anders. I'm addicted to it. We all are."

Anders stood up, his hands over his mouth. "So when we get the shipments from Orzammar, it's not just for the mages? It's for the Templars as well?"

"Yes," replied Cullen. "So you see, I can't just leave. I'm as much a prisoner as you are. And the mix of lyrium the Templars are given differs from that which the mages are given. Lyrium potions may be bought in stores throughout Thedas, but they are only suitable for mages. I drank a mage's lyrium potion once, and it had no effect on me. The Templar mix can't be bought anywhere, and I would have no idea how to make one."

"Cullen…" asked Anders. "Are you asking me to take you with me the next time I get out?"

Cullen nodded. "That is exactly what I am asking."

Anders sat down, facing Cullen. "Think about this, Cullen. Do you have any idea what they will do to you if we're caught? Me, I'll probably be put in solitary. But the risk is worth it to me, for the chance of freedom. But you? You'll be seen as aiding an apostate to escape, Cullen. They'll hang you."

"I'm not under any illusions about what will happen, Anders. But if I stay here, I'll die anyway. Inside, slowly. I just can't live like this anymore. I'm prepared to take the risk. And perhaps we will both have a better chance if we put our heads together and properly organise this. I know that you usually escape on the spur of the moment, when an opportunity presents itself to you. If we work together, Anders, and plan it properly, we may succeed this time."

Anders pondered this for a moment. He stood up and addressed Cullen determinedly. "Alright, you're on. But we need to address the lyrium issue first. Can you bring me some of your lyrium mix? I'll study it and see if I can replicate it."

Cullen stood up and shook his hand. "I'll get some from my room right now."


	3. An uneasy alliance

**Thank you very much to Jen for working so hard on this chapter :D xx**

x~~~~~~~~~~~x

Duncan, Blythe and Allis arrived at the ruins of Ostagar four days after leaving the Circle Tower. It had not been an easy trip. Blythe, frightened and confused, had spent much of it crying, and only spoke to the other two men when it would have been impolite not to do so.

Duncan was used to this reaction from conscriptees. He usually saved them from prison, death or exile. He very rarely received thanks for conscripting anyone; often they lashed out or threatened him, or many, like Blythe, grieved the loss of their former lives.

They were greeted by King Cailan upon their arrival. He presented himself as very young and idealistic, and both Blythe, being a mage, and Allis, an elf as well as a mage, were surprised and pleased that he treated them so equably.

Duncan told the mages that they were welcome to explore the compound, as he had business to attend to, but requested that they not leave the immediate area. He asked them to seek out a Grey Warden named Alistair, and inform him of their arrival.

The mages bowed as Duncan departed. Allis looked around and took a deep breath, awe-struck by their surroundings. "Isn't it magnificent, Blythe?"

While not friends at the Tower, Blythe and Allis had exchanged pleasantries in passing, and had occasionally borrowed one another's books. Allis was in his early 20s, and was good-looking in a fresh-faced sort of way. His hair was brown tinged with red, cut short at the back, but the front and sides were long, and he was endlessly tossing it out of his eyes. His skin was clear with a flush of red in his cheeks, and he smiled very easily, laughing at just about everything. Being an elf, his height only just reached Blythe's ear.

Blythe looked up at the sky, then at the ruins ahead of them past the bridge. "Is this where we're going to live now?" she asked, more to herself than Allis.

"No!" he laughed, "weren't you listening when Duncan told us? Well…I suppose you had other things on your mind. No, Duncan said there was a darkspawn horde in the Korcari Wilds to the south of here. We're to go into the Wilds and fight them! Isn't it exciting?"

Blythe looked at him blankly. "A horde…?"

"Oh, don't worry. It won't just be us. I think this Alistair will be going with us, and he's a _proper _Grey Warden, and a few others, as well."

Blythe sighed. "I hope Duncan didn't think me terribly rude for not listening to him, or talking to him. Or you…"

"It's alright," Allis shrugged. "We knew you were upset. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for what happened. I always knew that Jowan was a snake, but Irving? I can't believe he didn't stick up for you."

Blythe looked at him sadly. "None of that matters now, does it? I just can't believe I'll never see any of them again. Nila, Elspeth, Anders, and…"

Allis knew whom she meant, but didn't react. "I know," he sighed, holding his arm out for Blythe to grasp. She slipped her arm through his, a faint smile on her lips.

"I suppose I'll just have to make the best of things," she said quietly.

They began walking across the bridge, occasionally stopping to look over the side. They were very high up. A soldier greeted them as they approached the end of the bridge, and chatted to them.

"I must say, I expected the people here to be more hostile towards mages. Especially elven mages," observed Allis as they made their way around.

"I heard Duncan say that Grey Warden mages are very highly sought after," Blythe replied.

"Ah! So you did listen to _something_ then!"

"I suppose I did," she smiled.

"I'll get you to show those pearly whites of yours, yet. Wait and see," Allis chuckled. He was a very cheerful person, and it was infectious. Blythe was glad to be in his company.

They walked around the camp, looking in wonder at the many different types of people and races. They spoke to a group of Ash Warriors, who fought alongside their Mabari hounds, and allowed the mages to pet them. They bumped into Wynne, another of the Circle's mages, who was at Ostagar to fight in the King's army before returning to the Tower.

They spoke to elves, dwarves and humans, and marvelled to see them all working together for a common purpose. They'd heard that outside the Tower, the people of Ferelden stuck with their own. The dwarves lived in Orzammar, the elves lived in alienages, and the humans, who were the most numerous, lived everywhere else.

"Did you come from an alienage, Allis, if you don't mind me asking?" enquired Blythe.

"No, I don't mind at all. I'm told I came from the alienage in Denerim, but I really don't remember. I was 4 when the Templars came for me." His face dropped at the thought of Templars. Like Anders, he despised most of them, although there were one or two he tolerated, Cullen among them. "How about you? What's your story?"

"I'm from Amaranthine. I was 7. My friends and I were stupidly playing on a frozen lake. The ice broke under one of them. I concentrated hard and wished the ice would mend, and it did. My friends all ran home, scared, and told their parents. The Templars called at my house 3 days later. My parents didn't even warn me. I _do _remember that," she added, sighing heavily.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," sighed Allis.

"Don't be," shrugged Blythe. "I was the one that brought it up, and you're supposed to be cheering me up, not the other way round."

They looked at one another and laughed.

"Knew I'd get you to laugh eventually. You have a beautiful smile." Allis beamed at her.

Blythe swallowed hard and forced a grin. _Please don't say he's chatting me up._

Noticing her reaction, he laughed. "Oh, don't worry, pretty girl. You're entirely the wrong sex for me," he winked.

"Oh…!" Blythe looked embarrassed, then laughed once more.

"Well, I think that's broken the ice! If you'll pardon the pun, that is…" he laughed, referring to her earlier tale. "Now, let's go and find this Alistair. I hope he's better looking than this motley crew around here!"

They walked up a ramp, and spotted a young, handsome man wearing splintmail armour, who was being berated by a Senior Enchanter from the Circle. Allis nudged Blythe and whispered: "Now _that's _what I'm talking about! Look at the size of him! He'd break me in half!"

They stood there giggling, until the Senior Enchanter departed, and approached the handsome man. He spoke before they had a chance to introduce themselves. "You know…one good thing about the blight is how it brings people together."

"I know what you mean," replied Allis, winking at Blythe.

The handsome man continued. "It's like a party! We could all stand in a circle and hold hands! _That _would give the darkspawn something to think about…Wait! We haven't met, have we? I don't suppose you two happen to be mages?"

"Can't you tell?" asked Blythe in amazement. They were both wearing brightly-coloured robes and each carried a staff upon their back.

"Are you Alistair?" asked Allis hopefully.

"Yes!" he cried, glad to change the subject after stupidly asking two mages if they were mages. "And that must make you Duncan's new recruits. Glad to meet you. As the junior member of the Order, I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining."

Duncan had briefly mentioned the Joining. Some kind of ritual. "Can you tell us anything about this Joining?" asked Blythe.

Alistair looked uneasy. "Erm, not really…you'll find out soon enough. Anyway, let's get back to Duncan. I'm sure he's eager to get started. Lead on."

Blythe looked at him incredulously. "Shouldn't _you_ be leading _us_?" She knew she was being rude, but she really didn't want to be there, and couldn't get the thought that she would never see Anders or Cullen again out of her mind.

Alistair winced, then chuckled. "Good point. I don't suppose you'd know where Duncan is anyway. Follow me, then."

Blythe walked behind the two men, pouting, with her arms folded. She felt guilty for being rude to Alistair, but at the same time she felt perfectly justified, as he appeared to be a moron. Allis, clearly smitten with Alistair, bombarded him with questions.

"So…that argument with the mage earlier. What was that about?"

Alistair shrugged. "The Circle is here at the King's request, and the Chantry doesn't like that one bit. They just love letting mages know how unwelcome they are. Which puts me in a bit of an awkward position…I was once a Templar."

Allis stopped in his tracks and glanced at Blythe. He wasn't smiling any more. She folded her arms even tighter and snorted.

"Ah…_that _look. I suppose I should be getting used to it by now. I take it you two are not members of the Templar fan club, then?"

"We're from the Circle Tower," Allis replied flatly. "No, we're not overly fond of Templars in general."

"Right. Fair enough, I suppose." Alistair continued walking towards Duncan's location, not really wanting to get into _that _old argument at this juncture.

The two mages cast disapproving looks at one another, then followed Alistair to where Duncan stood.

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

With the trip into the Korcari Wilds complete, and the darkspawn blood and Grey Warden treaties retrieved, Duncan called Alistair over.

Ser Jory and Daveth stood together, talking. Ser Jory was anxious and Daveth looked exasperated. Blythe and Allis stood next to the Mabari pen and talked to the Mabari Master.

"What are your thoughts on our new recruits, Alistair?" asked Duncan quietly.

"A mixed group, to be sure," Alistair chuckled. "Jory, I'm not sure about. He hesitated several times when we encountered darkspawn, and dropped back occasionally, even though he was the most heavily armoured. Daveth is brave and a very capable scrapper, with a good attitude. I like him."

He sighed. "The mages…well, they're capable enough. Allis is an offensive spellcaster, and Blythe a healer. They didn't let us down. But…they're insubordinate, especially Blythe. She completely ignored my instructions several times, wanting to follow some old Chasind trail or something. I eventually lost my temper and ordered her to do what I said. She complied, but…ooh, the look she gave me!"

"Ah," said Duncan, nodding his head. "It is to be expected. She was conscripted. She is trying to find her way in a new life she didn't ask for. She is a good person. I saw as much at the Tower. Give her time."

"I also don't think it helped when I told them I used to be a Templar," Alistair muttered.

"Well, if they survive the Joining, they will have to learn to live and let live," Duncan replied. "There is no room in the Warden ranks for past rivalries. We are equals, united against a common foe."

"Thanks Duncan!" Alistair chuckled, a little sarcasm creeping into his voice. "That makes me feel a lot better!"

Duncan frowned and shook his head at Alistair, but as always, there was a hint of fondness in his eyes. "Collect our recruits, Alistair. The time has come."

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

_Blythe stood atop a tower. She looked around and saw she was alone. The sky was an unnatural brown colour and black clouds gathered overhead. An ungodly screech sundered the air and she span round, frantically, trying to locate its source. She was met by a blue-hot flame that consumed her, inside and out. She tried to scream but no sound came from her mouth. She caught a glimpse of razor-sharp fangs and black, dead eyes as her flesh melted and pooled around her feet. Her bones crashed to the ground, exploding in a cloud of dust._

"It is over. Welcome, Sister. How do you feel?"

It was Duncan. Blythe instinctively scooted away from him, before gradually realising where she was. "I'm…alive?"

Alistair offered his hand. She took it and unsteadily rose to her feet. "Allis!" she cried. "Where's Allis?"

Duncan pointed to the elf, who lay prostrate on the floor. "He lives, and will come to shortly."

Blythe exhaled shakily. "And the others…?"

Duncan and Alistair exchanged glances. "I am sorry. They did not survive," said Duncan sadly.

Blythe glanced at the two bodies behind her. Daveth lay face down, his hands clasped around his throat. Jory had been slain.

Allis moaned and began to stir. "No! NO! Get away from me!" he screamed, his hands clutching at the air. They ran to his side and knelt down. "It's alright," Blythe said softly, holding his hand. "You're safe."

His eyes flickered open. He looked at the three of them, terror apparent in his eyes. Then he exhaled and closed his eyes again, panting heavily.

"Welcome, Brother," said Duncan, helping him up. "How do you feel?"

Allis looked over at Daveth and Jory. The memory of their deaths slowly returned to him. He stepped over to Blythe and they embraced. "I'm glad you made it," he whispered.

"Same here, Allis."

Duncan placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "Take your time. When you are ready, I should like you to accompany me to a meeting with the King, to the west."

Alistair removed two pendants from his pocket. "There is one last part to the Joining. We take some of the blood and put it in a pendant, as a reminder of those who didn't make it this far."

He handed the mages a pendant each, which they slipped over their heads. Blythe looked at Alistair's neck.

"Yes, this is my pendant." He took it out and showed it to them.

Blythe suddenly felt a pang of guilt over her former rudeness as she realised that Alistair had been through the same as them. "How was your Joining, Alistair?" she asked.

He looked at the floor. "Only one person died during my Joining, but it was…horrible. I'm glad the two of you survived, though. Welcome to the Grey Wardens."

Blythe extended her hand to him. He shook it and grinned. Allis did the same.

The three of them, an uneasy alliance of mages and Templars, walked west towards their meeting with the King.


	4. The Chantry's dirty secret

**Hi! Thank you so much to everyone that is reading, reviewing, following or favouriting! You make my day!**

**And thank you to Jen for making the chapter readable with her excellent editing!**

**This story will not be updated until at least Wednesday as I'm going away for a few days. (And neither will _Broken _for anyone also reading that.) I promise I'll make it up to you when I return! See you soon! :D**

x~~~~~~~~~~~x

Cullen went to find Anders after his morning shift in the library. He didn't need to worry about how much time he spent with him any more; after all, he had been ordered to spend _more _time with him.

Anders was in his quarters, hunched over his desk. Mr. Wiggums, the Tower's resident feline, lay asleep on the bed. On the desk were books and scraps of paper with intimidating-looking mathematical formulas scrawled all over them. Several glass beakers and test tubes were stacked together in a rack, containing a variety of blue, clear or brown liquids in various quantities.

"Knock knock," whispered Cullen as he stood by the curtain. Anders spun round.

"Sorry," muttered Cullen. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Well, you did!" said Anders cheerfully. "But I don't mind. Come in."

Cullen looked up and down the corridor, closed the curtain and sat on Anders' bed, stroking the now awake Mr. Wiggums. "What's all this?" he smiled, looking at the paraphernalia on the desk.

Anders held his hand up for silence as he wrote down another formula. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then turned to Cullen. "Well, you don't become a Master Herbalist by just crushing a few leaves with a pestle and mortar, you know."

"So I see," Cullen nodded, impressed, then dropped his voice to a whisper. "Have you had any luck?"

"Yes," sighed Anders, looking displeased. "But I wouldn't use the word _luck_ just yet. "This," he said, holding up the half-empty bottle of Cullen's lyrium, "is a greater lyrium potion, identical in every way to a mage's greater lyrium potion. The proportions of lyrium dust, distillation and concentrator agents are identical."

Cullen frowned. "I don't understand. They can't be identical."

Anders sighed again and shook his head. "Well they are, except for one thing. This." He removed a beaker from the rack. At first glance, it appeared to be empty, but on closer inspection Cullen saw that the bottom of it was coated with a black residue.

"What's that?" asked Cullen, not liking the look of disgust on Anders' face.

Anders stood up and checked the corridor again, before closing the curtain and sitting back down. "It's some kind of resin," he whispered. "I sampled a little of it. It had the same effect on me as you described – I felt invigorated and carefree. At first, I was baffled. Then it came to me, Cullen. Oh, Maker." He rubbed his eyes again, looking exhausted.

"What?" asked Cullen sharply.

"Tell me something, Cullen. When you were at the Chantry in Redcliffe, did you ever go for a walk in the gardens?"

Cullen stared at Anders, confused. "Well, yes, but I don't see…"

Anders interrupted. "And the Chantries of Ferelden are famed for their beautiful gardens, are they not?"

Cullen nodded, still not understanding what Anders was trying to say.

"What else are they famous for? Still on the subject of flowers?"

"I'm sorry, Anders, I really have no idea," Cullen replied apologetically.

"They are famous for the beautiful poppy fields that surround them. Every Chantry has a poppy field, does it not?"

Cullen nodded, realisation slowly dawning on him. "Maker preserve us!" he cried, then put his hand over his mouth and checked the corridor again, before sitting back down on the bed with a thud. Mr. Wiggums jumped down and exited in disgust.

"I'm sorry, Cullen, but it's not lyrium you're addicted to. It's opium. Well, laudanum to be precise. Your Templar mix also contains alcohol."

Cullen sat in stunned silence. Anders rested his head on his hand and looked at his Templar friend. "This is _big_, Cullen," he whispered. "Really big. We would be put to death for having this knowledge. I need to destroy all of this."

He collected his notes and crumpled them into a ball. He held the ball in his hand and pressed his other palm down onto it. Cullen's skin tingled and the hairs on his body stood on end as he sensed the use of magic. The ball of notes glowed red, then white, before collapsing into ashes. Anders then drank the contents of the beakers.

"It's alright," he said, noticing the look of alarm on Cullen's face. "They're just components of the lyrium potion. They won't harm me."

"That's it, then," Cullen said sadly. "I can't go with you. Unless, that is, you're willing for us to visit every Chantry in Ferelden on our way round and steal their poppies. And I doubt you would wish to go anywhere near a Chantry once you're out."

Feeling crushed, he stood up and shook Anders' hand. "I greatly appreciate what you've done here, my friend. Don't worry, I still intend to hold up my end of the bargain. I will assist you in any way I can."

"Sit down, Cullen," said Anders. Cullen sat back down on the bed. "You can still come with me," he said, watching Cullen for a reaction. "There is a way. It will be very difficult – for both of us. But I'm willing to help you, if you agree."

Cullen regarded Anders for a moment, then spoke. "You want me to stop taking it, don't you?"

Anders nodded gravely. "Don't be under any illusions, Cullen. Laudanum is powerfully addictive. You'll go through hell. You'll be a wreck. But," he emphasised, "you _will _come through it, with my help. I promise you that."

"But how?" whispered Cullen. "You can't deal with me _and_ try to remain hidden at the same time. It's too much to ask."

Anders stood up and checked the corridor again. He heard a Templar walk past, and waited until he'd gone. Anders remained standing in the doorway this time, so he could keep constant watch. Cullen had to strain to hear him whispering.

"I have a contact at the Spoiled Princess across the lake. He's from an organisation called The Mage's Collective. He helped me during my last two escapes. I send him word when I'm ready to make an attempt. There's a hidden room in the basement of the Inn where I stay until the Templars have stopped searching the local area. My contact brings me food and clothing and gives me a little money."

Anders closed the curtain and sat back down. "We could stay there until the worst of your symptoms are over. I estimate we're looking at the better part of a week until you're able to travel."

Cullen looked at Anders in astonishment. "You'd be prepared to delay your escape for a week?"

Anders nodded. "Of course. You've always been decent to me, Cullen. You're a good man, for a Templar," he grinned. "I hate the thought of you being in the grip of this…" his mouth twisted in disgust as he picked up the beaker. "Besides, being on the run does get lonely. I'd appreciate some company."

"Thank you, Anders. You're a good man, too – for a mage." They grinned and shook hands.

"Right," whispered Anders, standing in the doorway again. "I'll tell you the plan. Feel free to stop me and make suggestions, or tell me if any parts of it are a bit too insane for your liking," he grinned, then his face suddenly fell. "Erm…Cullen, you can swim, can't you?"

Cullen smiled. "Yes, very well, in fact. I often go for a swim in the lake first thing in the morning."

Anders pressed his palms together in mock prayer. "Oh, thank the Maker for that!"

He looked around again. "Alright. We won't need to take much with us, except some of your lyrium mix, and a few ingredients for making potions…" Anders fell silent as he made a mental list of items they would need.

"Sorry. You obviously can't wear your Templar armour, so dress as you normally would when you go swimming, with perhaps a few more layers. This is a greater ice balm," he said, handing Cullen a small pot. "It'll keep you warm when we're in the water and will stop you from cramping up. Massage it into your arms and legs before we meet." Cullen pocketed the pot.

Anders looked around again. "I've made a tunnel," he whispered.

Cullen couldn't help laughing at that. "Where?"

"In the garden. It's been there for ages. At the moment, a huge peony is blocking it from sight. Tannin, one of the mages who tends to the gardens, knows about it, and keeps the tranquil mages away from it. The Templars haven't a clue it's there."

"Tannin?" asked Cullen. "Hasn't _he_ escaped a couple of times?"

"Yes," grinned Anders. "He helped me to dig the tunnel in the first place."

Cullen shook his head in bewilderment. "I have to hand it to you, Anders. You're far more organised than I gave you credit for."

"Oh, I have no trouble escaping," he replied proudly. "It's just _staying _free that's the problem. When we're ready, I just need to send a note to my contact and give him a couple of days' notice. Then, I need to figure a way to get into the grounds."

"That won't be an issue," grinned Cullen, jangling his keys. "But I'll send the note. Or, at least, I'll write the envelope. Gregoir is checking your mail."

"Sneaky bastard," muttered Anders.

"I have a couple of questions, Anders," said Cullen. Anders nodded. "Firstly, once we get out of the Tower, won't Kester spot us? The ferryman?"

"Kester _has_ spotted me on a few occasions," replied Anders. "He turns a blind eye. Doesn't want to get involved, which is why he won't ferry us across."

Cullen nodded. "Fair enough. Another thing. Why do we need to take some of my lyrium mix with us? Do you intend to wean me off it?"

"No, Cullen. That would take forever, and I don't want you taking any more of that rubbish than you have to. You can take some just before we set out, then that will be your last.

The reason I'll be taking some with me, is that if we can stay out for long enough, I intend to expose this secret. I don't know who to. I don't know if anyone will even believe me, but I have to try, and I'll need your help and testimony, Cullen. I need to know now if you have any qualms about that."

Cullen looked darkly at him. "None whatsoever, Anders."

x~~~~~~~~~~~~x

_Blythe awoke in vaguely familiar surroundings. Where am I? She wondered. She was in bed, in a house…then she froze as a familiar woman entered the room. Her Mother, followed by her Father. Blythe tried to move, but couldn't. She was tied to the bed._

_Her parents walked over to her, disgust and fear etched on their faces. "What are we going to do with her?" asked her Mother._

"_Only one thing we can do," replied her Father. " She's evil and wicked. We can't have anyone knowing our daughter is a witch." They nodded to each other._

"_Mama! Papa!" Blythe cried. "I am no witch! Please! I love you! What are you going to do?"_

_Her Father walked over to a dresser and took out a carving knife. "I'm sorry, daughter, but this is for the best."_

"_No! Father, please! Don't do this!" she screamed, then was rendered silent as her Father's face transformed into that of a Genlock's._

"_Father?" Blythe cried, looking up at her Mother, who glared down upon her with the eyes of a Hurlock._

_Blythe's Father raised the knife above her with trembling hands. "Maker forgive me for what I'm about to do…"_

"_No! Father!"_

Suddenly, her parents were gone. Blythe was still lying in bed. She tried to wriggle out of her bonds, but they had vanished as well.

"Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother shall be pleased," a deep female voice spoke from the corner of the room.

Blythe jumped and scrambled off the bed, falling onto the floor. She stood up and backed away. "Who are you?" she cried, her voice trembling as her eyes frantically scanned the room, looking for her staff. "Wait…I-I remember you. The girl from the Wilds?"

The raven-haired woman sashayed her way over to Blythe, who suddenly felt very self-conscious, as she was wearing nothing but her smallclothes.

"I am Morrigan, lest you have forgotten," she purred, handing Blythe her robe.

"Thank you, Morrigan," Blythe said apprehensively, pulling her robe on. "Where are we? How did I get here? There was a battle. We were at the top of the Tower…we lit the beacon…What…?"

Morrigan regarded Blythe coolly, a trace of pity crossing her feline features. "The man who was to lead the charge quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle. The Wardens? Massacred."

"Loghain quit the field?" Blythe cried in disbelief. "But he was to advance as soon as we lit the beacon!" She paced back and forth, trying to make sense of it all. "Wait! What about the King? What about my companions?"

"The King is dead, as are all who were on the field with him. If, by your companions, you mean the sulking, dim-witted one, and the elven mage, they are quite safe, and are anxiously waiting outside to hear of _your _condition."

"The King is dead?" Blythe stared into space as she remembered the good-natured young man who greeted her and Allis so politely upon their arrival at Ostagar. "I can't believe it! And Duncan…what about him?"

Morrigan frowned. "I know not of whom you speak. However, if he was on the battlefield, then he too is dead."

Blythe sat back down on the bed. _I never even thanked him for what he did. _She put a trembling hand to her mouth as her tears began to fall.

"Oh, come now!" cried Morrigan impatiently. "'Tis not all bad. You are still alive. The Grey Wardens I have met so far do not appear to live up to the legends I have heard. In fact, all they seem to do is whine and blubber. Do you not think you are being childish?"

Blythe stood up, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her voice wavered as she spoke. "Childish? What's wrong with you? Have you no heart?"

Morrigan put her hands on her hips. "Oh, if only t'were so. Life would be much simpler."

Blythe glared at Morrigan as she headed towards the door of the hut. Morrigan moved aside, shaking her head at this pitiable creature.

Blythe opened the door and stepped out. _A swamp_, she thought. She waved her hand in front of her face to swat away a few midges. She could see Allis a short distance away from the hut, practising his spell combinations. He cast a thick layer of grease upon the ground, then set it ablaze with a Fireball. He then froze a small section of swamp water, before shattering the ice with a Stonefist spell.

Alistair stood not far away, his back to her, looking out across the swamp. Next to him stood a wizened old crone who resembled Morrigan.

"See?" the crone spoke to Alistair. "Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man."

Alistair wiped tears from his eyes and turned towards Blythe. His eyes were dull with sorrow. "You…you're alive. I though you were dead for sure."

Allis, finally spotting Blythe, ran over and embraced her. Alistair continued to speak, but appeared to be talking to himself more than anyone else. "Duncan's dead, the Grey Wardens…even the King." He looked at the two mages, tears forming anew in his eyes. "They're all dead. This doesn't seem real…if it weren't for Morrigan's mother, _we'd_ be dead on top of that Tower."

Blythe and Allis took a step closer to Alistair, not quite knowing what to do. Templar or not, the poor man was bereft, and they pitied him. Allis took the initiative and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad," the old crone replied.

Alistair turned to face her. "I-I didn't mean…but what do we call you? You never told us your name?"

"Names are pretty, but useless," she replied. "The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose it will do."

Alistair stepped back in amazement. "_The _Flemeth? From the legends? Daveth was right…you're the witch of the wilds, aren't you?"

She snorted. "And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic, and it has served you all well, has it not?"

Blythe addressed her. "If you are Flemeth, you must be very old and powerful."

"Must I? Age and power are relative. It depends who is asking. Compared to you? Yes, on both counts."

"Then why didn't you save Duncan?" asked Alistair, his voice unsteady. "He is…was…our leader."

"I am sorry for your Duncan," replied Flemeth. "But your grief must come later, in the dark shadows before you take vengeance, as my mother once said. Duty must come now. It has always been the Grey Wardens' duty to unite the land against the blight, or did that change when I was not looking?"

"But we _were _fighting the darkspawn!" cried Alistair. "The King had nearly defeated them! Why would Loghain do this?"

"For the Throne?" asked Blythe.

"Perhaps," muttered Alistair. "All I know is Arl Eamon would never abide by this!"

"Who's Arl Eamon?" asked Allis.

"The Arl of Redcliffe. I know him. He's a good man. His army wasn't at Ostagar. Maybe we could go to Redcliffe and appeal for his help?"

"His help with what?" asked Allis, frowning. "The blight, or taking down Loghain?"

"I don't know!" cried Alistair. "But I know that the three of us can't defeat the blight and the Archdemon on our own!"

Blythe stepped closer to Alistair and patted his backpack. "We have other allies we can call on, remember?"

A little light returned to Alistair's eyes. "Of course! The treaties! We can enlist the aid of elves, dwarves and mages! They're obliged to help us during a Blight!" He turned to the two mages. "So can we do this? Go to Redcliffe and these other places and build an army to defeat the Blight?"

"Of course!" replied Allis, delighted that Alistair had regained his focus. "Isn't that what Grey Wardens do?"

Flemeth nodded approvingly. "So you are set then? Ready to be Grey Wardens. Now, before you go, there is yet one more thing I can offer you."

Morrigan exited the hut and approached Flemeth. "The stew is bubbling, mother dear. Shall we be having guests or not?"

"The Grey Wardens are just leaving. And you shall be joining them," replied Flemeth, with more than a hint of malice in her eyes.

"Such a shame…" began Morrigan. "What?"

"You heard me, girl. The last time I looked, you had ears!"

"B-but this is not how I wanted it, mother. I'm not even ready," Morrigan blustered.

"Look," said Blythe, who had taken a dislike to Morrigan, "we're grateful, but if she doesn't want to come with us…"

Flemeth ignored Blythe and turned to her daughter. "You must be ready. Alone, these three must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. They need you, Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I."

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth," interrupted Alistair, "but won't this add to our problems? Out of the Wilds, she's an apostate." Allis and Blythe looked at one another and rolled their eyes.

Flemeth folded her arms. "If you did not wish help from us illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should have left you on top of that Tower."

"Point taken," Alistair mumbled sullenly.

Morrigan huffed. "Very well. Let me get my things." She entered the hut and exited soon after, not appearing to have brought anything extra with her.

Morrigan addressed the two mages, ignoring the sulking Templar. "I recommend our first stop be made at Lothering, a village to the north of here. 'Tis not far, and we should be able to purchase supplies from there."

Allis looked at Alistair, seeking approval, but was met with only shrugged shoulders. "Very well," said Allis. "Lothering it is."

Morrigan bade her mother farewell and followed the other three, keeping her distance.

Allis sidled up to Blythe. "Well, this should be entertaining. Two mages, an apostate and a Templar. Just think of the fun we'll have!"

Blythe managed a smile. They looked ahead at Alistair. His head hung down and his shoulders were slumped. "Shall we see if we can cheer him up a bit?" asked Allis. Blythe nodded.

They caught up to him and flanked him at each side. "We've decided you're alright," said Blythe cheerfully.

"Me?" asked Alistair.

"Who else would I be talking to? Him?" she pointed at Allis. "I can't stand him. Between you and me, he's not as nice as he makes himself out to be. _And _he smells."

"I do _not_!" cried Allis. "Take no notice of _her_. I've heard a few things about _her_ exploits at the Tower that would make your toes curl."

"Lies. All lies. I'm a good girl."

Allis scoffed. Alistair's eyes went from side to side, following this banter for a few minutes, and for a short time he forgot about Duncan. A bemused grin crept onto his lips.

"So you see, Alistair," Allis said brightly, as both mages linked arms with him, "we're not going to incinerate you, or freeze you, or even zap you with lightning. Not for the time being, anyhow."

Alistair chuckled a little. "Good to know."

The three of them continued on their way to Lothering, followed by a scowling and muttering Morrigan.


	5. Revelations

**I apologise for the lack of Anders and Cullen in this chapter, but I'm stuck on something concerning the plot at the moment and wanted to get a chapter out as I haven't updated for a while. They will return in the next chapter!**

**Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review! It really means a lot to me!**

**And thank you as always to my awesome Beta Reader Jen! Another great job!**

x~~~~~~~~~~~x

Shortly after beginning their journey to Lothering, Morrigan and the three Wardens halted**. **All of them, due to their own inherent abilities, could sense the use of magic further ahead on their path. Alistair, having been a Grey Warden for 6 months, could also sense darkspawn. The mages readied their staves, and Alistair, his sword and shield.

A huge lumbering beast rounded a corner and hurtled towards them. Morrigan gave a startled cry and pointed her staff toward it. Blythe pushed Morrigan's arm aside. "It's a Mabari, not a darkspawn!" Blythe protested.

"So?" replied Morrigan. "'Tis a filthy, repulsive beast all the same. It matters not what label you care to put on it."

The Mabari ran to Allis and span around in circles, barking, before rolling onto its back. Allis crouched down and rubbed the hound's chest. "I think this is the dog we helped at Ostagar, Blythe!" he said excitedly. Daveth had informed Allis that the Mabari Master wanted a particular flower, only found growing in the Korcari Wilds, to help treat a sick dog. Allis had found the flower, taken it to the Mabari Master, and turned down the reward.

"He's chosen you," said Alistair, also crouching down and scratching behind the dog's ears. "The Mabari are like that. It's called imprinting."

Allis laughed delightedly as the Mabari swatted his hand with its paw. "I've always wanted a dog like this. Maybe it was meant to be! Do you want to stay with us, boy?"

The Mabari leapt to its feet and barked several times in excitement. "Excellent!" trilled Allis. "Now, what shall we call you…"

The Mabari stopped barking and span round, its hackles raised and its ears plastered against its head as it growled menacingly.

"Oh, yes…the darkspawn! Forgot about them!" Allis said sheepishly, regaining his focus.

From around the corner, a group of approximately a dozen darkspawn appeared. The most heavily armoured one, presumably their leader, walked to the front of the group and taunted the travellers with an uncouth gesture.

"He's mine!" yelled Alistair, charging ahead, closely followed by the Mabari.

Allis sent a Fireball well ahead of Alistair and the Mabari, knocking the darkspawn off their feet and setting them ablaze. He and Morrigan then let loose Lightning and Arcane Bolts while Blythe cast Heroic Defence and Heroic Offence on the two front-line fighters. The Mabari leapt into the air and went straight for the throat of the nearest darkspawn**. **Alistair looked behind him to ensure that the mages were out of range, then sent the group's leader and several others flying into the air, unconscious, with his devastating Holy Smite.

Alistair and the Mabari made short work of the unconscious darkspawn as Blythe cast Mass Rejuvenation on the party and Regeneration on Alistair, who appeared to be tiring. The remaining darkspawn were bombarded by Lightning Bolts, Arcane Bolts and Winter's Grasp spells from the three mages. Allis shouted for Alistair and the Mabari to move aside as he incinerated the remaining darkspawn with a Flame Blast. Blythe cast Group Heal, and the three mages took out lyrium potions and drank.

"Whoooooo!" yelled Allis. "Nobody can defeat the mighty Mage and Templar army!"

Alistair walked up to the mages, laughing. The Mabari ran to and growled at Allis.

"Oh! Pardon me!" he said, embarrassed. "The mighty _Mabari_, Mage and Templar army!" The Mabari barked happily, wagging his tail.

Alistair shook hands with Blythe and Allis, and offered his hand to Morrigan, who promptly folded her arms and snorted.

"Now, where were we before those rude darkspawn interrupted us? Yes, that's right, we were looking for a proper name for you, weren't we, my friend?" asked Allis, crouching down to shake the Mabari's paw. "I know!" he said, snapping his fingers. "I'll call you Reaper! After the famous apostate who gave the Templars the slip for so many years!" Allis cast a sidelong glance at Alistair, and winked at him. "What do you think, Blythe?"

She laughed. "I think that's an excellent name! What do you think, fella?"

Reaper barked in approval.

"Alistair?" asked Allis slyly. "Do you approve?"

Alistair tried his best to look disapproving but couldn't help a good-natured smirk from appearing on his face. "I think that's the perfect name for a mage's hound," he laughed.

"So what would a Templar name his hound, then?" asked Allis grinning.

"Gregoir!" laughed Alistair. Allis shuddered melodramatically.

"You know," said Blythe to Alistair. "Reaper sensed the darkspawn as you did. The Mabari Master told us he'd swallowed darkspawn blood. Does that mean he's a Grey Warden too?"

Alistair looked doubtful. "Well, I suspect he 'sensed' the darkspawn because he passed them on the way here," he replied. Then, seeing the disappointed look on Blythe and Allis' faces, smiled. "But I suppose we could make him an honorary Grey Warden."

"Yes!" the two mages cried, and shook Reaper's paw, welcoming him to the Grey Wardens, then made Alistair do the same. They didn't bother to ask Morrigan.

x~~~~~~~~~~~x

The 'Mabari, Mage and Templar Army' made camp halfway to Lothering as night fell. Blythe volunteered to cook in exchange for someone putting up her tent. Alistair agreed and set to work.

They had plenty of dried meat rations remaining from Ostagar, but Blythe looked around and found a few herbs, root vegetables and mushrooms that didn't appear to be lethal, so she chanced them, throwing the rations into the pot to rehydrate them. A stew of sorts resulted, which was actually rather nice, and well received by the men. Blythe left a bowl on the side for Morrigan and called her over. Morrigan took the proffered bowl, grunted her thanks and retreated to her tent. She had previously pitched it far away from the others, and had made her own fire.

"Stuff you, then," muttered Blythe as she sat down to eat with Allis, Alistair and Reaper.

Morrigan sat down with her bowl of stew and sighed deeply, looking over at the others. _They seem like decent people, _she thought to herself, _but I can't allow myself to get close to them. I have something to do, and I must see it through to the end. If they dislike me it will make things easier. This doesn't need to be complicated by friendship._

She looked over at the others again as they laughed and ate. She swallowed hard, pushing down a nagging doubt, and began to eat her stew.

x~~~~~~~~~~~x

Alistair and Allis took first watch that night as Blythe and Morrigan slept. Allis made some of Blythe's herb tea. He watched Alistair sitting next to the fire, lost in thought. Reaper snoozed at his feet. Alistair had been very quiet since they made camp. Allis took the tea over and offered a mug to Alistair.

"Oh…thank you," said Alistair, snapping out of his reverie. Allis sat next to him and warmed his hands by the fire. The two men were silent for a while. Alistair resumed staring moodily into the fire. Allis remained quietly at his side, watching him from the corner of his eye.

"Would you like to talk about Duncan?" Allis asked softly after a while.

Alistair looked at him, a little surprised. "It's alright. You don't have to do that."

"I just thought it might help to talk," said Allis.

Alistair cast his eyes down and sighed. "I shouldn't have lost it like that. Not with the darkspawn threat, and the Blight and everything…I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise, Alistair," replied Allis. "He was like a father to you. I understand."

Alistair gazed deeper into the fire, his eyes wide and unblinking. "He was. I never knew my real father, you see. Duncan was the closest thing I ever had to one. I can't believe he's…" Alistair tutted and turned away from Allis as a tear rolled down his face.

Allis wanted to put his arm around Alistair's shoulder and offer comfort, but refrained, unsure of how the gesture would be received.

Alistair composed himself and turned to Allis. "Have…you ever lost anyone close to you? Not that I'm prying or anything."

Allis shrugged. "Well, my family, I suppose, but I can barely remember them. Blythe has suffered more loss than I. She _does _remember her family, and she left someone behind at the Circle Tower. That was why she wasn't very friendly when you first met her. She was really upset. She didn't mean anything she said."

"Someone?" asked Alistair. "You mean…"

Allis nodded. "Yes, she was romantically involved," then he sighed. "It's probably for the best, though, that they were parted. She may not see it like that now, but the two of them could have got into a lot of trouble. Especially him."

Alistair's brow creased. "Why would _he_ get into a lot of trouble? I know that relationships between mages aren't encouraged in the Circle Tower, but surely they wouldn't have gotten more than a slap on the wrist?"

"Well," Allis whispered. "He wasn't exactly a mage."

Alistair looked even more confused. "What, was he a Senior Enchanter or something? Don't tell me it was Irving! I'm sure she can do a lot better than him!" They both laughed at that.

"_No_, Alistair," Allis chuckled. "He wasn't a mage _at all_."

"Was he a civilian then? A kitchen worker? A messenger?" Alistair grinned and snapped his fingers. "No, wait! Kester! It must be him!"

Allis burst out laughing. "You really are an Archdemon short of a Blight, aren't you, Alistair?"

Alistair giggled, tears still in his eyes from only a few minutes ago. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me!" he joked. "Alright, I give up. Who was he?"

Allis leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered. "A Templar."

Alistair's smile disappeared and he looked straight at Allis. "You're having me on, surely?"

Allis shook his head. "Honestly, I'm not."

Alistair thought for a moment before speaking. "I know that sometimes things go on in the Tower…you know, dalliances…"

Allis shook his head. "No, it wasn't like that. I think they were in love."

"Really?" Alistair said sadly. "No wonder she was so upset. Do you know why she was conscripted? Was it anything to do with that?"

Allis grimaced a little. "Well, maybe she'll tell you herself sometime. Suffice to say, she got into trouble over something that wasn't her fault. I probably shouldn't have told you about the Templar, actually. I can be a bit of a blabbermouth."

"Oh, I won't say anything," Alistair promised. "What about you? Was there anyone special to you at the Tower?"

Allis smiled wryly. "There were a couple of, erm…people, but I don't know if I'd call them special. No, not really. How about you?"

Alistair grinned, his face flushing pink. "I was raised in the Chantry. There wasn't much opportunity for that sort of thing. And since I left, I've been busy with the Grey Wardens, so no, not really."

"So does that mean you've never…?" asked Allis with a cheeky grin on his face.

"Never what?" asked Alistair obtusely. "Never had a good pair of shoes? Never seen a basilisk? Never eaten jellied ham? Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?"

Allis burst out laughing. "Now you're taking the piss!"

"Take the piss out of you, my dear fellow? Perish the thought! Well, tell me. Have _you _ever licked a lamppost in winter?"

"Why, yes! I've licked a lamppost in winter!" Allis laughed, realising the analogy was not far from the truth.

Alistair giggled. "Just the one? And you didn't lose half of your tongue in the process? I'm impressed! I, myself, have never had the _pleasure_. Not that I haven't thought about it. But, you know…I've never had the opportunity."

"That's a shame!" said Allis brightly. "Handsome man like you, missing out on all those lovely women in Ferelden! Never fear, Alistair. The woman of your dreams is out there somewhere."

"Woman?" asked Alistair, taken aback, then composing himself. "I, er…no, I suppose I haven't met the person of my dreams yet."

_Person_? Thought Allis, furrowing his brow.

"Would you like some more tea?" asked Alistair, standing up. His face was bright red.

Allis drained his cup and handed it to Alistair. "Yes, please."

x~~~~~~~~~~~x

Blythe sat cross-legged in her tent and unpacked her belongings. She had been allowed to quickly take a few things from her room when she left the Circle Tower. _Bloody good job too_, she thought, as she took out Cullen's sash. _I wouldn't want them to have found __**this.**_

She unfolded it and ran her fingers along its length. She brought it up to her face and inhaled deeply. It smelled of sandalwood and spices, just like he did. She closed her eyes, imagined his voice in her mind, and pictured his face.

She wrapped the sash around her neck and settled down on her bedroll. She hugged her pillow, pretending it was him. She felt her gut lurch as tears spilled from her eyes. She missed Cullen and Anders desperately, and although she'd resigned herself to the fact she would never see them again, she knew it would be a long time before the pain would begin to abate.

x~~~~~~~~~~~x

Blythe was awoken by Allis in the middle of the night. Poor Alistair had lost the coin toss and was forced to wake Morrigan.

"Sorry, sleepy-head. It's your turn to take watch," Allis whispered into her tent, noticing a flash of Templar burgundy out of the corner of his eye as Blythe concealed the sash.

She groaned and threw a few clothes on then emerged. Allis noticed how puffy her eyes were. His heart sank. "So," he said as cheerfully as he could, "are you looking forward to your shift with Miss Happy-Knickers?"

"I'd be happier if I could cast Fireballs," she grinned, as they walked over to the firepit.

"I'll teach you when we get a chance," he replied. "You can cast Flame Weapons, so you have some command of the elements. I'm sure you could master it eventually."

"Really?" she smiled.

"Of course! If you teach me to heal in return."

"Deal!" she replied. They shook hands. "Can you teach me now? Might come in handy later on if she gets on my nerves."

"Sorry, I need my beauty sleep. We can start tomorrow, if you like. As soon as we get a bit of spare time." Allis was distracted by the sight of Alistair walking away from Morrigan's tent with a sour look on his face.

"So, have you got round to proposing to Alistair, yet?" Blythe asked cheekily.

"Hmmm?" he replied.

"Maker! You really are smitten, aren't you?" she teased.

Allis looked thoughtful. "No, it's not that. Just something he said earlier…made me wonder."

"Wonder what?"

"Oh, nothing," replied Allis. "Probably wishful thinking on my part, anyway. Good luck with Morrigan. Goodnight." He kissed Blythe on the cheek and headed towards his tent.

"Goodnight!" she called back.

Blythe walked over to Reaper, who bounded over to greet her. "Oh, I'm happy to see you, boy!" she laughed, scratching his head. She looked over at Morrigan, who had sat next to her own firepit. Blythe shook her head. "Come on, Reaper!" she called. "See if you can find a nice big stick, and we can have a game!"

Reaper barked happily.

"Shhh! No barking!" she whispered. "They're sleeping."

In reality, neither Allis not Alistair slept well that night, both confused and troubled by the conversation they had shared in front of the campfire.


	6. The best laid plans

**Hi! Sorry for the delay in updating, I'm back at work now :( and so this story will only be updated maybe twice weekly from now on (any extra to that being a bonus)**

**Thank you so much to anyone that has taken the time to review, story-alert or favourite! :D**

**And to my awesome Beta Reader and friend Jen, a million thanks! You're the best! xx**

O~~~~~~~~~O

Although forced to make slight alterations to their original plan, Cullen and Anders were almost ready. Word had been sent to Anders' contact at the Spoiled Princess, and an encrypted reply had been received. Anders had given a sleeping draught to Cullen, which would be poured into the vat of cocoa in the Templars' quarters, incapacitating them during the escape.

Swimming was now out of the question, as a recent drop in temperature had caused a thin layer of ice to form across the lake. Cullen had suggested he instead escort Anders from the Tower, telling Kester that he and Anders were leaving on official business, and be rowed across the lake instead.

This development, however, presented problems: Using the tunnel in the garden was now impossible as Cullen would never fit through wearing his armour, and there wouldn't be enough time for him to remove it and put it back on again. As a result, Cullen and Anders would now have to get past all of the Templars on the first floor, _and _open the main doors, which required the strength of 4 men.

Anders' first solution for opening the door was to employ two other mages to help. "I know Tannin would help us, and I can think of several others who are trustworthy and would give us a hand," he said to Cullen as they finalised the details of their plan.

Cullen looked doubtful. "Wouldn't they want to come with us? I don't want anyone else to see me…you know." He remembered Anders' dire warning of the withdrawal symptoms he would suffer.

"Well, they probably would want to escape," said Anders, "but we can tell them to make their own plans once we're out. You're right, though, there's no way they're coming with us."

"There's something else," said Cullen, looking concerned, "I'm not happy about the main doors being open for any length of time. However we disable the Templars at the door – and remember, we agreed not to kill anyone – they _will_ recover, head straight through the doors, and see us being slowly rowed across the lake. And another thing – we can't disable all of the Templars _and _mages on the first floor. With the doors wide open, there would be a mass exodus of mages from the Tower."

"What's wrong with that?" frowned Anders, sounding a little indignant.

"Think for a moment, Anders," Cullen sighed. "First of all, with that many mages gone, the Tower would recruit extra Templars from the various Chantries in Ferelden. The Spoiled Princess would be torn apart. Even if we did get away from there, the Templar presence around Lake Calenhad and its neighbouring provinces would be massive. We'd be caught in no time.

Also, I know that I would be put to death in the event we are caught, while you would receive solitary confinement. Should it become apparent that you and I are responsible for dozens of mages fleeing the tower, however, I have no doubt that you will be branded a Maleficar by the Chantry and slain on sight."

Anders pursed his lips and folded his arms. "You're right." He paused for a few moments, occasionally looking at Cullen from the corner of his eye.

"Do you have another idea, Anders?" Asked Cullen.

"I do…but you won't like it."

"We are _not_ going to kill anyone, Anders. I will not budge on that."

"No, of course not!" cried Anders. "I'm not a murderer!

Alright," he said nervously. "I know a little…trick."

"Trick? What do you mean by that?" asked Cullen, raising an eyebrow. Anders sighed and squirmed. "Go on," said Cullen, frowning.

"Well…I learned something not sanctioned by the Chantry."

Cullen's eyes narrowed. "Tell me."

"I can charm people."

Cullen started at that. "And just where did you learn that, Anders?"

"Look," said Anders, "do you want to get out of here or not? Does it matter where I learned it? And besides, I thought you didn't want to be a Templar any more. You can't think like that _and _disapprove of illegal magic at the same time. What is it you truly want, Cullen?"

Cullen ran his fingers through his hair and faced Anders directly. "Are you a blood mage?" he asked firmly.

"No! Maker, no!" cried Anders. "I…I just know this one thing. Please don't ask me how, because I won't tell you. But as Andraste is my witness, I am _not _a blood mage. I disapprove of blood magic as much as any Templar. For that matter, most of my mage brothers and sisters also hate the very idea of blood magic."

"But charming _is _a form of mind control!" exclaimed Cullen. "You must have learned it from a blood mage! Being able to charm is the first step on the road to blood magic. I want to know who taught you. Was it Jowan?"

"Cullen," said Anders firmly. "Let me say this one last time. _I am not a blood_ _mage_. I am not going to tell you now, nor ever, how I know this trick. If you disapprove so strongly of something that will help us escape, then perhaps we should just abandon the entire plan. That is my final word on the matter, Cullen."

Anders had learned how to charm upon joining the Libertarians, a movement advocating a complete split between the Circle Tower and the Chantry. He had befriended Uldred, a senior mage and outspoken Libertarian, who taught Anders a few of his 'tricks'. Nevertheless, Anders had recently distanced himself from his teacher as he believed Uldred was becoming power-mad and behaving erratically.

Cullen turned away from Anders and paced back and forth. Finally, he spoke. "Look, this is hard for me. I was brought up in the Chantry and since I was a small boy, I've had it drummed into me that magic is sinful and wicked. I was taught that any form of mind control or blood magic is the worst of all. I _don't _want to be a Templar any more, but I can't just shake off the convictions I was raised with so easily. Blood magic _is _evil and I will never approve of it, Templar or not."

He relaxed his body and sighed. "For what it's worth, Anders, I don't believe you are a blood mage. Alright, we'll go with your plan. We'll charm the Templars at the main door to open it for us, then immediately close it once we're out. For how long will they stay charmed?"

Anders brightened a little. "Until somebody else realises they're charmed and dispels it. It may not be until the following morning. All we really need to do on the first floor is walk up to the main door and charm the four Templars there. The other Templars see us together all the time and probably won't suspect anything. But…if they see us walking up to the main door together…"

"I have a solution to that," said Cullen. "If anyone questions us, I could tell them I'd just discovered you trying to escape and was taking you to Gregoir. Now, the other Templars and I know that Gregoir is not usually in his office after 8pm, but sometimes he does stay for longer. Yes! I could say I was going to see if he was still there!"

Anders grinned. "So that means we don't have to worry about disabling anybody on the first floor? We won't have to fight our way out?"

Cullen nodded.

"And," said Anders, almost salivating at the thought, "If Gregoir _is _in his office, I get to charm that bastard as well?"

"Correct," smiled Cullen. "Although, there is one final problem."

Anders rolled his eyes. "But of course!"

"Well, as soon as you charm anyone, any nearby Templars will sense it immediately and come running."

"Ah," said Anders.

"Indeed," Cullen replied.

Anders studied the wall intently for a few moments. "I know!" he said excitedly, grabbing Cullen's shoulders, "Gavienus and Tristan owe me a favour. I'll get them to create a diversion! Have a fight in the library using magic or something, or have one of their spells go wrong! That way, the Templars would hopefully be too preoccupied with that to bother about us, or they may not even be able to sense my magic if magic is already being used in the library! What do you think? Could that work?"

The look on Cullen's face was encouraging. "Yes, that's very clever, Anders."

"Right!" said Anders, "do you foresee any other problems?"

Cullen pondered this, finally shaking his head slowly. "No, my friend. I think we're ready now."

"Right! I'm off to find Gavienus and Tristan! Don't forget the sleeping draught!" chirped Anders, as excited as a child opening gifts on Feastday.

o~~~~~~~~~o

Blythe, Allis, Alistair and Morrigan reached Lothering at midday without incident. Allis and Alistair had been ostensibly quiet and kept their distance from each other. Blythe could sense the tension between them and wondered if they'd fallen out, perhaps over a Templar/mage issue. If Morrigan could pick up on the tension, she made no sign, and Reaper was too interested in sniffing dead rodents by the roadside and chasing insects to pay any attention.

They made short work of a pathetic group of bandits who demanded money from them, claiming it was needed for the upkeep of the Imperial Highway. Alistair looted their bodies as Blythe and Allis looked through the crates the bandits had brought with them.

"These crates are full of clothing and personal effects," said Blythe to the rest of the group.

"Yes," said Alistair, taking a note from the hand of a dead Templar. "All ill-gotten, no doubt. We'll inform the Chantry. I need to visit there anyway. This note is addressed to Ser Donall. I know him. He may be able to help us."

They descended the steps into the village. Alistair took a deep breath and sighed. "There it is – Lothering. Pretty as a painting."

"So, you have finally decided to rejoin the rest of us, then?" said Morrigan snidely as all eyes turned to her. "Falling on your blade in grief was too much trouble, I take it?"

Alistair wheeled round to face her. "Is my being upset so hard to understand?" he cried angrily. "Have you never lost anyone close to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?"

Morrigan scoffed. "Is that before, or after I had stopped laughing?" The other three looked at one another in disbelief.

"Right, very creepy. Forget I asked," muttered Alistair.

"Leave him alone, Morrigan," said Allis.

She folded her arms and laughed. "Oh, but how can I when he looks at me so with the eyes of a brain-dead calf?"

Blythe, sensing that an argument was about to break out, interrupted. "I think we need to work out what we're going to do. Do you have any thoughts, Alistair?"

"Oh, _this_ ought to be good!" said Morrigan sarcastically.

"I _think_," said Alistair through gritted teeth, "we should consult these." He took the Grey Warden treaties out of his backpack. "We have treaties for the Circle of Magi, The Dalish Elves, and the Dwarves of Orzammar. Which should we go for first?" he asked the rest of the group.

"You're asking us?" said Blythe. "You're the senior Grey Warden here, not us. We'll follow your lead."

Alistair feigned terror. "_Lead_? Me? Oh, no no no no no! Bad things happen when I lead. We get lost, people die, and before you know it I'm running around without any pants on!" he chuckled.

Allis couldn't help himself. "In that case, I _insist _you lead, Alistair." he grinned, biting his bottom lip.

Alistair stopped laughing and turned bright red. "I, um…what I think we should do, erm…" he cleared his throat. "What I _think_ we should do," he continued, unable to look Allis in the eye, "is go to Redcliffe first, and consult Arl Eamon. He'll be able to advise us further."

Blythe looked at Alistair and Allis, carefully noting Alistair's reaction to Allis' comment. "Sounds like we have a plan, then!" she said cheerfully.

"Well, 'tis gratifying to see that _one _of us is capable of formulating a plan!" said Morrigan snootily, directing her words toward Alistair.

Allis moved to Alistair's side and spoke as the Templar rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm becoming pretty sick of your attitude, Morrigan. Just what is your problem?"

"My problem," she answered, "is having to travel with a half-witted Templar who blubs over people unworthy of his grief. If they had not the wit to survive…"

"Now, look here!" Alistair cried angrily, stopping as Allis grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing here Morrigan?" Allis demanded. "You obviously don't like any of us, you never smile, you never contribute in any useful way, and every word that comes out of your mouth is poison!"

"I state only the painful truth," she replied, apparently unconcerned at his anger. "'Tis more desirable to be honest, is it not?"

Allis, his hand still on Alistair's arm, glared at Morrigan. "We don't _need_ your kind of honesty, Morrigan! I am _this_ close to burning you to a cinder, and don't think I won't do it, either! Now, either keep your mouth shut, or fuck off!"

Morrigan, scandalised, stood with her mouth open as Allis dragged Alistair down the steps by his arm, followed by Reaper and Blythe, who raised her eyebrows at Morrigan as she passed. Allis stopped at the bottom of the steps, red-faced and breathing deeply.

"Sorry, Alistair," he said. "I'm not trying to fight your battles for you. But I've been dying to say something to her for a while, now. I'd just had enough. And sorry for grabbing your arm like that."

Alistair looked down at his arm. Allis' hand was still there, his grip looser now.

"It's alright," Alistair said softly.

Allis looked up and their eyes met for a brief moment.

"Hey!" cried Allis as Reaper crashed into him with a stick in his mouth, wanting to play.

Alistair gulped and felt himself break into a sweat as he watched Allis chase after Reaper.

o~~~~~~~~~o

Cullen sat nonchalantly in the Templar quarters, having just slipped Anders' sleeping draught into the cocoa vat. The Templars that were just coming off duty helped themselves to a mug, as had those that would relieve them before commencing their shift. He waited for a while and watched. Gradually several of them began to yawn, some retiring to their quarters, others sitting down, and a few swaying and complaining of feeling woozy.

Ser Cormac, who was known for being a drama queen and whom Cullen disliked immensely, had not yet taken his cocoa and, looking around the room, began to panic. "Cullen! Something's wrong here. Look, everyone's falling asleep!"

"Oh, yes, you're right!" frowned Cullen, feigning concern. "Look, calm down. Have a mug of cocoa. I'll fetch a couple of healers from downstairs. I'm sure it's nothing serious."

"Yes, alright, Cullen," said Ser Cormac, plunging his mug into the vat and gulping it down in one swallow. "You're probably right."

"I'll be back in a minute," Cullen lied, exiting the fourth floor and heading down to the Senior Enchanter's quarters, where far fewer Templars were on duty than on the first and second floors. The hour was late and very few mages were around; those who were quietly read in secluded corners. Cullen walked past two Templars on duty and stifled a laugh as he realised they had fallen asleep standing against a wall. Thankfully they both wore their helms.

He descended to the second floor without incident. Again, the floor was almost deserted and any sleeping Templars had either gone unnoticed or the mages simply hadn't cared enough to raise the alarm. Two Templars flanked the exit to the first floor. One was standing, leaning against the wall. The other had slid to the floor and sat on his bottom with his legs akimbo. Cullen looked around and dragged him into a side room.

O~~~~~~~~~O

Anders waited anxiously in his quarters for Cullen to arrive. He heard the unmistakable clanking of Templar armour and hoped to the Maker that one of the bastards hadn't slipped through. His head fell back and he sighed with relief as Cullen walked in, carrying a full set of Templar armour. "Put this on," he instructed. "This is Ser Trian's armour. He's roughly the same height and build as you."

Cullen assisted Anders with the convoluted task of donning the armour.

"I feel sick," shuddered Anders as he looked himself up and down. "When we get out of here, _you're _wearing a mage's robe. They're bloody cold, I tell you, especially when the wind gets up you."

Cullen handed him a helm, trying not to laugh as Anders slipped it on. "An apostate in Templar uniform. Whatever next?" he grinned.

They approached the entrance to the first floor and paused, both taking a deep breath.

"Ready?" asked Cullen.

The faceless helm nodded.

They walked through the apprentices' quarters on the first floor – 'the trouble floor', as the Templars called it - as something was always exploding, or somebody arguing, or some wheeze was being played on the Templars; thus the Templar presence on this floor was far greater than on the floors above.

Anders, dressed in full Templar armour and helm, nodded to Gavienus and Tristan as he and Cullen sauntered through the library. They stood and nodded back, sniggering at such a bizarre sight.

Finally Cullen and Anders reached the main lobby. They walked through the double doors and closed them. Sure enough, four Templars stood on duty, two flanking the main door and the other two pacing up and down.

Cullen shot Anders a glance and affected an angry countenance. He dragged Anders by the arm toward Gregoir's office. "Is Gregoir still in his office?" he asked one of the other Templars.

"Aye, Cullen. What do you want him for?" asked Ser Fergal.

"For _this!_" Cullen exclaimed angrily as he pulled the helm from Anders' head. The other Templars gasped and drew closer.

"You never learn, do you, Anders?" said Ser Baldwyn. "You're for it this time, you know!"

"No, I'm not for it," said Anders slowly, holding all four of the Templars' gazes. "Because you're not going to say a word, are you? _Any _of you."

"Oh, no Anders, we won't say a word, we promise," muttered Ser Baldwyn, looking utterly confounded.

Anders opened his arms wide, encircling all four of them. "Now, I think you should open this door for us, shouldn't you?" They nodded compliantly.

A huge explosion sounded from the library. The Templars looked at Anders, startled.

"You should ignore that and make the door your highest priority," commanded Anders. They nodded and began the strenuous task of opening the massive, heavy door.

Gregoir's office door flew open and the Knight-Commander ran out, stopping in horror as he noticed Anders. "What in _Andraste's name _is going on here?" he yelled.

"Nothing to see here, Gregoir," Anders purred, advancing toward him. "You've been working too hard. You should take a nap in your office."

"W-What are you talking about, Anders?" Gregoir replied, sounding a little unsure of himself. "What are you doing in Templar armour?"

Anders fixed Gregoir in place with his gaze. "I _am _a Templar, you fool! Who did you think I was?"

"I, erm…I thought you were a mage…I…yes…I see, now. A Templar. My apologies," said Gregoir contritely, looking at the floor.

"A mage? Do I _look _like a mage to you? You really have been overdoing things, haven't you? I think you'd better get some sleep, old man," Anders replied with feigned concern in his voice.

Gregoir's brows knitted together as he yawned. "Yes," he said quietly. "I have been overdoing things lately. I should probably take a nap."

"One more thing," Anders said, addressing Gregoir and the four Templars. "I think you had all better forget any of this ever happened. I won't say anything if you don't. Can you _imagine _what the Grand Cleric would do if she found out about this? You'd all be packed off to some remote Chantry in the Anderfels. _If _you were lucky, that is."

Gregoir nodded his head. "Yes, you're right, Anders. We won't say anything. Thank you."

"Oh, _Maker_! I think I've just _come_!" exclaimed Anders as he watched Gregoir walk back into his office and close the door. Another explosion rocked the library. The huge main door opened wide, letting in a blast of cool air.

As they exited, Anders turned to the Templars one more time. "Now, make sure you lock this door tightly once we're outside. Don't let _anybody _else out, not even Gregoir. Remember what I said about the Grand Cleric!" he warned.

"We will! Thank you, Anders!" cried the Templars, swiftly bolting the door as Cullen and Anders stepped outside. They allowed themselves a quick grin before advancing to the jetty.

"Why isn't anybody posted outside, Cullen?" Anders asked. "Although I'm not complaining."

"Because of Gregoir's arrogance and stupidity, that's why," he answered.

There was no sign of Kester as they approached the jetty. "He's probably asleep by now," whispered Cullen, walking up to Kester's cottage and peering through the windows. "Yes, he's in bed!" he mouthed, _sotto voce_ as Anders leapt into the boat and grabbed an oar. Cullen joined him, and they silently made their way across Lake Calenhad.

O~~~~~~~~~~O

**Many, many thanks once again to Nithu, for coming up with the 'spiked cocoa' and 'rowing across the lake' ideas after I got stuck with the escape plan! :D xx**


	7. Freedom comes at a price

**Thank you so much to Jen, Shakespira, Nithu, voltagelisa, Eva Galana, arysani and Yvanna for your wonderful reviews, and to everyone else following the story!**

**And a special thank you to Jen for another first-class editing job! :-***

o~~~~~~~~~o

Senior Enchanter Irving let himself into Knight-Commander Gregoir's office after his third knock at the door had gone unanswered. He found Gregoir slumped over his desk, snoring loudly. Irving cleared his throat and took a deep breath, trying his best to hide the amusement on his face.

"Gregoir!" he shouted.

Gregoir murmured a little, then resumed snoring. Irving moved around the desk and shook him roughly by the shoulders. "Gregoir! Will you wake up!" he shouted again.

Gregoir stirred and groaned as he sat up. He looked up at Irving and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the candlelight. "Irving? What are you doing here? What time is it?" he asked, confused.

Irving folded his arms and tried his best to look serious. "The hour is very late, Gregoir," he answered. "I was dragged from bed by the only seemingly conscious Templar in this tower. Are you aware that most of your men lie sleeping in the corridors?"

"What?" cried Gregoir sharply, standing up and holding his head, suddenly feeling dizzy. "What is going on…?"

Irving's mouth twisted as he swallowed down a grin. "It appears, Gregoir, that whatever has happened has also affected you in some way. I have some of my healers working on your Templars now. They all appear to be intoxicated."

"What?" said Gregoir again. "With what? Spirits? Poison? Be specific, Irving!" he spat.

"It is difficult to determine the agent employed," said Irving slowly, secretly revelling in Gregoir's discomfort. "But we believe that the Templar's evening drink of cocoa may have been tampered with deliberately."

Acting instinctively, Gregoir charged past Irving and approached the four Templars on duty next to the main door, all of whom were still awake. "Make a sweep of the Tower!" he commanded. "I want Anders and Tannin found and brought before me immediately! Irving and I will remain here to guard the door!"

"Yes, Ser!" they cried in unison and departed, apparently having no memory of the previous evening's events.

"So, you suspect one of the two youngsters of escaping again?" asked Irving, noticing that Gregoir looked very confused and kept rubbing his forehead.

"What did you say?" asked Gregoir. Irving stepped closer to him and reached out to touch his face. Gregoir flinched.

"Will you stand still, Gregoir!" said Irving impatiently as he placed his hands on Gregoir's face and concentrated for a moment. "As I suspected," the elderly mage sighed, no longer amused. "You have been charmed, Gregoir."

"Charmed? That is impossible!" exclaimed Gregoir angrily. "I would have remembered!"

"I fear it is true, Gregoir," replied Irving, shaking his head. "Allow me to dispel its effects." Irving knew that using a spell on a Templar without first asking could be perilous.

"Very well, Irving," said Gregoir gruffly. Irving, keeping his hands on Gregoir's face, closed his eyes as a surge of blue light left his hands and travelled down Gregoir's body.

Irving stepped back and spoke. "Now, think carefully, Gregoir. Do you remember anything untoward happening? What is the last thing you recall?"

Gregoir narrowed his eyes in concentration. "There was an explosion…I came out here." He shook his head and sighed. "It is hazy. I do not remember what happened next…" Gregoir's face fell and he slowly raised his head to meet Irving's gaze. "Anders…?" he murmured, unsure of himself.

Sudden rage flashed in Gregoir's eyes as his memory started to return. "Anders…in a Templar uniform? Yes, I remember _that! A Templar uniform of all things!" _he seethed, a vein bulging on his forehead.

"Calm yourself, Gregoir," said Irving soothingly. "The lad cannot have gone far. It is a bitterly cold night and he must have taken refuge nearby."

"Calm myself?" spat Gregoir. "If _you_ had agreed to make him tranquil like I recommended after his last escape, we would not be in this situation! Makers' Blood, he has acquired the power to charm people! So now we have _two _Maleficars on the loose! And all because of _your _bumbling, Irving!"

Two of the Templars previously sent to sweep the Tower returned, with a bleary-eyed Tannin in tow. "Ah, Tannin, child," said Irving. "We appear to have misplaced one of our people. We wondered if you could shed any light on the matter?"

"Misplaced one of our people?" laughed Tannin. "What, Anders has done it again, has he?"

"What do you know of this?" barked Gregoir.

"Nothing," replied Tannin impertinently, folding his arms. "Good on him, I say. And even if I did know anything, do you really think I would tell you? If so, you're far more stupid than you look." The apprentices in the Tower had little respect for the Templars, and even less for Gregoir.

"How dare you!" began Gregoir, before being interrupted by Irving.

"Very well, child. We shall speak more of this in the morning. Now, return to bed."

"I want an apology first, from him," Tannin replied, looking at Gregoir.

"You shall have no such thing!" cried Gregoir, his face turning red. "Now return to your dormitory at once!"

Tannin shrugged his shoulders, and walked away laughing.

"You are far too soft on your apprentices, Irving! This is intolerable!" cried Gregoir as he paced back and forth.

"Ser…" said one of the Templars nervously.

"What is it?" snapped Irving.

"Well, Ser, you were right about Anders being missing, but there is someone else unaccounted for," replied Ser Fergal.

"Who? Spit it out!" growled Gregoir. "Is it one of the apprentices?"

"No, Ser," replied Ser Fergal. "It's Ser Cullen. We can't find him anywhere."

"Cullen?" said Gregoir, his voice quieter. "Yes…I remember him being here. You were here, Ser Fergal. Can you tell me what happened?"

Ser Fergal looked puzzled. "I'm sorry, Knight-Commander. I don't remember Ser Cullen being here, nor Anders for that matter."

"Remove your helm, child," sighed Irving. Fergal did as requested and Irving put his hands to the young Templar's face, shaking his head. "This lad has also been charmed, Gregoir; as, I suspect, were the others guarding the main door."

"Dispel him," commanded Gregoir.

After locating the other three Templars and reversing the effects of the Charm spell, Irving and Gregoir finally began reconstructing the night's events.

"So," said Gregoir, after search parties were sent to scour Lake Calenhad, The Spoiled Princess, Redcliffe and Anders' hometown of Honnleath, "Anders drugged the Templars' cocoa, stole a uniform, and charmed the Templars into opening the main door. It appears that young Cullen was also charmed, and abducted by Anders to aid his escape."

"Abducted?" asked Irving sceptically. "Do you really think that likely, Gregoir? How was the cocoa contaminated? Anders had no access to the fourth floor."

"He must have charmed one of the Templars above to let him in," said Gregoir, realising that Irving had a point, but refusing to admit it.

Irving shook his head. "So, Gregoir. Anders charmed a Templar into letting him onto a floor full of other Templars with the ability to sense magic, and they all stood idle as Anders slipped something into their cocoa? I think not."

"I admit it would be difficult," said Gregoir, "But to suggest that Cullen would be complicit in such a scheme…"

Irving interrupted. "Do not let your pride cloud rational thought, Gregoir. Anders must have had an accomplice. Yes, perhaps he did charm Cullen to drug the cocoa and to bring him a uniform. But what purpose would a charmed Templar serve after Anders had made his escape? He would only prove a hindrance, which suggests that Cullen went of his own volition.

And," Irving said with a cunning look in his eye, "we all observed the look that passed between Cullen and Amell when she departed the Tower. It only confirmed our suspicions that they were romantically involved. Think, Gregoir. You, yourself have noticed a change in Cullen's behaviour recently. He has been impertinent and defiant toward you - not his usual manner at all."

"You have a point, Irving," admitted Gregoir reluctantly, "but there is one thing you have not considered. Cullen would be unable to obtain Templar lyrium from outside the Tower. There is no way he would leave willingly. Anders _must _have taken him from the Tower against his will.

Anders has gone too far this time. He has knowledge of forbidden magic, _and _he has abducted one of my Templars. I have instructed my men to slay the Maleficar on sight."

o~~~~~~~~~o

Anders and Cullen made it safely to the northern shore of Lake Calenhad. There they were met by the Mages' Collective operative, who introduced himself to Cullen as Davlamin. The three men quickly knocked holes in the bottom of the boat, loaded it with sandbags, and watched it sink. Davlamin ushered them to a thicket of trees, where he uncovered a cunningly hidden trapdoor, and beckoned them to follow him below.

Once inside, Davlamin unlocked a small door. After stooping to move down a crude, but soundly-made tunnel, the men reached a second locked door. Behind it lay a small room, lit only with torches. Two bedrolls lay on the floor, and several crates were stacked against a wall.

"Those crates contain clothing, light armour and helms, and plenty of dried rations. You'll also find some potion-making ingredients, Anders," said Davlamin. "I'll bring you both fresh water each day, for washing and drinking. You can perform your ablutions beneath the trapdoor. I've left a bucket there for you to relieve yourselves."

"You've outdone yourself, Dav," said Anders, shaking his hand. "I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"You can repay me when you have the means, Anders, as do all the other mages I assist," replied Dav, winking.

Anders turned to Cullen. "Get yourself settled in, Cullen. This will be our home for the next week or so. I'm going to have a chat with Dav."

"Alright," said Cullen, walking over to have a look in the crates.

Anders and Davlamin went back down the tunnel and stood beneath the trapdoor. "Listen," asked Anders, "will anyone be able to hear us down here? I'm anticipating some…shouting."

"Shouting? What do you mean?" asked Davlamin.

"Look…" said Anders sheepishly. "I didn't tell you everything in the letter. If I had, you might not have helped us. Cullen is a Templar."

"He's a what?" shouted Davlamin, before lowering his voice. "Well, what in the name of Mafaerath's balls is he doing here?"

"He helped me escape," whispered Anders. "He's a sympathiser. He's only been a full Templar for a few months, and has hated every second of it. And one day, if the Maker smiles on us, he will be a hero to mages. He knows something that could destroy the Chantry's hold over us."

"What?" questioned Davlamin excitedly.

Anders shook his head. "Sorry, friend. I can't risk anyone else knowing at this point. But when it's revealed, the ramifications to the Chantry will be devastating."

"Well then," grinned Davlamin, "we'd better make our Templar friend at home."

"He is my friend," said Anders. "And I'm going to help him through his lyrium withdrawal. Which is why I anticipate shouting or…well, who knows what else."

Davlamin raised his eyebrows and sighed. "I don't envy you, Anders. But, no, don't worry. Nobody will hear you. Your room is next to the cellar of the Spoiled Princess, and its walls have been reinforced to prevent theft."

"Thanks, Dav. I really do appreciate your help," said Anders, shaking his hand again. "Any thoughts on where we should go when we leave here? I can't go to Redcliffe again, they're always waiting for me there, and I can't go to Honnleath yet. That's the first place they'd look for me."

"Well," replied Davlamin, thinking carefully. "I would have suggested you head south this time, but if you do, avoid the vicinity of Ostagar. The place is overrun with darkspawn after their victory over the Wardens."

"Wardens?" asked Anders, thinking of Blythe. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you wouldn't have heard," replied Dav. "There was a battle at Ostagar. Every Grey Warden in Ferelden was there. The darkspawn annihilated them. The Grey Wardens are no more."

Anders stared at Davlamin with his mouth wide open. "Yes," Davlamin continued. It's a real shame. Now there is nothing to stop the darkspawn, so be careful out there when you leave."

Anders, too dumbstruck to speak, nodded slowly and turned to head back to Cullen.

"You could try Lothering," suggested Davlamin. "I helped another one of your lot last week. That's where he was heading."

Anders span round with anger in his eyes, already knowing the answer to his question. "Who?"

"Jowan," replied Davlamin.

o~~~~~~~~~o

Blythe, Alistair and Allis were saddened by what they found in Lothering. Several families, lone people and children were taking refuge here, having been driven from their homes by the darkspawn. The three Wardens knew that sadly, with its proximity to Ostagar, Lothering too would fall before long.

Alistair visited the Chantry to see Ser Donall. Morrigan went off for a walk by herself. Blythe, Allis and Reaper decided the best place to hear news was at the local tavern and headed there.

As soon as they entered, they were accosted by two soldiers. One of the men took out a piece of paper and showed it to his partner, who nodded. "Well," said one of the soldiers. "We've been circulating this likeness of you Wardens all day, and _not __one person_ has seen any of you! Don't you think that's odd? Now, where's the third Warden?"

Blythe and Allis took out their staves. Several patrons backed away from them. "Who are you?" demanded Allis. "What do you want?"

"Never mind who we are, knife-ears," replied the other soldier. "We have orders to arrest any Grey Wardens we come across for the murder of King Cailan."

"The what?" replied Blythe and Allis, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"You lot abandoned him, you did," said the soldier, unsheathing his sword, "You're responsible for his death. Teyrn Loghain says we're to capture you – by any means necessary!"

"I suggest you all leave before you get hurt!" shouted Blythe to the tavern's patrons, who, not needing to be told twice, surged toward the doors.

o~~~~~~~~~o

Alistair trudged out of the Chantry, troubled by his conversation with Ser Donall. He'd discovered that Arl Eamon, the man who had raised him, was gravely ill, and the only hope for a cure seemed to be some far-fetched scheme to recover Andraste's ashes. He shook his head sadly and looked into the distance.

As he looked up, he noticed several screaming people running out of the local tavern, apparently from a fire within. His skin tingled as he sensed the use of magic, and ran over, barging through the tavern's doors.

Inside, two soldiers lay on the ground, begging for their lives as Reaper snarled at them and Allis taunted them, prodding them with his staff. Several pieces of furniture and fixtures in the surrounding area lay scorched and smoking. Blythe spoke to a red-headed Chantry sister, who appeared to be pleading with her.

Allis, seeing Alistair walk in, spoke. "These are Loghain's men, Alistair. They were sent here to arrest us." Alistair approached the soldiers, drawing his sword, seeing nothing but Duncan's face in his mind's eye.

"But they have surrendered!" beseeched the red-headed girl in a heavy Orlesian accent. "And I do not wish death upon anyone."

Allis placed his hand on Alistair's chest to stop him. "Put your sword away, Alistair. We don't want to draw any more attention to ourselves than we already have, do we?"

"Please!" begged one of the soldiers. "Let us go! We won't trouble you no more! We'd be stupid to!"

Alistair and Allis' eyes met. "Please," whispered Allis.

Alistair held his gaze and nodded, sheathing his sword with a sigh.

"Take a message to Loghain.," commanded Allis, who was emerging as the party's unofficial leader. "Tell him we know what he's done, and we're coming for him."

"Y-Yes, Ser! We will! Thank you!" cried one of the soldiers as they got to their feet and exited the tavern at speed.

The three Wardens and Reaper left the tavern, along with Leliana, the red-headed Chantry sister. Upon discovering they were Grey Wardens, she had asked to accompany them. Noting her skill with a bow during the fight, the Wardens decided they could use her help, and readily accepted her offer of assistance.

A Templar in the Chantry had told Alistair about a group of bandits that were scattered in and around Lothering, causing problems for the refugees.) Alistair suggested they seek them out, adding that it would be a good way to earn some money, which they desperately needed.

The others agreed, briefly looking around for Morrigan. When they couldn't find her, they began looking around town, completely unaware that they were being followed.

Since their arrival in town, a hooded figure had watched them, keeping to the shadows to remain out of sight. As they began their search for the bandits, the stranger resumed his pursuit, maintaining a safe distance from the adventurers, lest he be discovered.

o~~~~~~~~o

Cullen woke with a start in the middle of the night. He was drenched in sweat and his hands shook. He felt a gnawing ache in the pit of his stomach, which he knew only one thing would assuage. Remembering Anders advice, he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply.

Anders watched him from the other side of the room through half-closed eyes. He hadn't been able to sleep properly after the tidings of the Warden's deaths. Although he desperately wanted to talk to someone about it, he had decided to keep the news from Cullen for now. Anders believed the man would have enough to contend with over the coming days, without adding the pain of Blythe's death.

Cullen stood up and walked to the door. It was locked. He remembered that the key was on a string around Anders' neck. He glanced at Anders, then walked over and crouched down beside him.

"Something I can do for you Cullen?" asked Anders.

"Maker's breath! You made me jump!" cried Cullen. "I just wanted the key. I didn't want to wake you. I need some fresh air."

"Fresh air?" asked Anders incredulously, sitting up. "Cullen – Lake Calenhad will be seething with Templars right about now!"

"I know," said Cullen, breathing heavily and clutching at his throat. "But I feel like I'm suffocating in here!"

"Take deep breaths," said Anders. "Go on – deep breath in, release it slowly. And again. Maker, Cullen, you're sweating buckets."

Anders reached over and touched Cullen's shoulder, meaning to cool him down with a little frost, but nothing happened. "Cullen…did you just dispel me?"

"Sorry, Anders!" laughed Cullen sheepishly. "It's instinct. Try again."

Anders smiled and sighed, concentrating for a moment. Cullen's body glowed white for a moment. "Any good?" asked Anders.

Cullen shivered. "A little too good, Anders, but thank you very much," he laughed.

"Now lie down," Anders said. I'll put you to sleep for a while."

"How about you, Anders?" asked Cullen as he lay down. You appear to be having trouble dropping off yourself."

"I'm alright," Anders replied. "Just going over where we'll be headed when we leave here. I'll tell you all about it in the morning."

"Alright. Goodnight Anders," said Cullen as Anders laid his hand over him and a pale yellow glow appeared around the Templar.

"Goodnight, Cullen," replied Anders and returned to his bedroll. He lay there and swallowed back tears as he thought of his friend Blythe…and then of having to give the news to Cullen. His head pounded and a hot, urgent sensation throbbed in his chest as he pictured Jowan.

_If it weren't for him, Blythe would still be alive, _he thought bitterly. _Lothering…yes, that's where we'll go._


	8. Healing old wounds

**Thank you once again to my dear friend Jen for her excellent Beta-reading skills! xx**

o~~~~~~~~~o

Leliana, Reaper and the Wardens headed back toward the Chantry to collect their reward after relieving Lothering of its bandit problem. The sun had begun to set, and Blythe was beginning to grow concerned as to Morrigan's whereabouts.

"I know you two don't like her," she said to Alistair and Allis, "and I can't say she's a favourite of mine, either. But something may have happened to her."

"I'm more concerned that her mother will come after us for losing her," quipped Alistair.

Allis stopped for a moment, looking pensive. "Am I the only one amongst us to think that Flemeth finding us in that Tower was a little convenient?" he pondered. "I mean, how did she know where to find us? She arrived just in the nick of time, and apparently single-handedly defeated all of the darkspawn that overwhelmed _us_? Isn't that a little suspicious?"

"You know, you're right," replied Alistair. "At the time, I wasn't thinking straight, because of…you know…Duncan. That didn't even occur to me."

"So we're thinking she has some ulterior motive for accompanying us?" asked Blythe as the men nodded. "But what could she possibly want from us? And don't you think she'd be nicer to us if that were the case?"

"It could have been Flemeth's doing, you know," replied Alistair. "She _was _very keen for Morrigan to come with us, and from the way Morrigan's been acting, she obviously wasn't too happy about it."

Allis shrugged. "Well, if she _has _run off, good riddance to her. I can't say I'll miss her."

"Me neither," Alistair concurred.

"Although I do not know Morrigan," said Leliana, "I fear for her safety. It grows dark, and she is a lone female."

"Oh, Morrigan can look after herself, don't you worry," replied Blythe with a wry grin.

"So it would seem," groaned Alistair, pointing ahead.

Morrigan walked toward them, preceded by a man wearing battered chainmail armour and a cowl, holding his hands aloft in surrender. She prodded him with her staff as they walked.

"Morrigan?" asked Blythe as she approached. "Are you alright? Who's that?"

"This man," replied Morrigan, "has been following all of you since we entered the village. I spotted him not long after we arrived and decided to follow him in turn. He will not give his name or the reason for his pursuit. I thought perhaps the Templar might get some answers out of him. He is a mage."

Blythe walked over to the stranger and pulled down his hood. A wave of nausea and fury swept through her body as she stared, open-mouthed, at him.

Allis broke into a run as Blythe's hands closed around the stranger's throat.

"You bastard!" she yelled as she squeezed with all of her strength. The stranger's hands went instinctively to hers as he tried to pry her off.

"Stop it!" cried Allis as he tried to pull them apart. "Alistair, help me!"

Alistair ran over and grabbed Blythe's hands as firmly but gently as he could, successfully separating them.

"We're trying to keep a low profile, remember?" said Allis to Blythe, before turning to the stranger. "What the bloody hell are you doing here, Jowan? And why are you following us?" he hissed contemptuously.

"I just wanted to see where you were going," replied Jowan contritely. "I-I wanted to…apologise, but didn't know how to approach you."

"Apologise?" snapped Blythe, trembling as she spoke. "Do you have any idea what you've _done_? I was forced to leave my home because of you! And the only man I've ever…" she stopped and took deep breaths. Allis put his hand on her shoulder, saddened by her words.

Blythe collected herself and spoke again. "And Lily? The woman you claimed to love? She was sent to Aeonar!"

"What?" cried Jowan in panic. "But she didn't do anything wrong!"

"And neither did I!" yelled Blythe, not caring if anyone heard. "You lied to me! You lied to all of us! Do you have any idea of the torment I went through over you, because I actually believed you when looked me in the eye and told me you weren't a blood mage? I went to see Irving because I was so worried for you…"

"You did _what_?" interrupted Jowan.

Blythe walked right up to him, her pretty features marred with contempt as she spoke. "Oh, never fear, Jowan! It was not I who ensnared you – Irving already suspected your plan, and used me as a pawn to trap you, my so-called friend. I exited his office that day with the words 'duty to the Circle' ringing in my ears. I hated myself for what I was doing because I _believed _you.

Then," she said with a tremor in her voice, "the bastard double-crossed me, because he and Gregoir knew about Cullen and I! They would have sent _me _to Aeonar as well!"

"Cullen?" muttered Alistair in recognition. Allis glanced at him.

Blythe, enraged, took out her staff. "I may only be a healer, Jowan," she spat, "and I may not be able to kill easily. But I can still cause immense amounts of _pain_!"

As Jowan backed away, pleading, Alistair noticed his hand move to a small dagger tucked into his belt. "Oh no you don't, you filth!" he cried, as he ran forward and delivered a brutal right-hook to Jowan's jaw, sending the blood mage sprawling onto his back.

As Alistair yanked him up by his hair, Allis noticed the dagger fall from Jowan's hand. "You piece of shit!" he cried. "You were actually going to use blood magic against her? She's supposed to be your friend!"

"You're coming to the Chantry with me!" scowled Alistair, roughly twisting Jowan's arms behind his back. "I have some Templar friends there who would love to make your acquaintance!"

"Wait!" cried Morrigan. "I say this boy could be useful to us. If not, then release him. 'Tis better to be freed than to be slain merely for being different!"

"Release him? You must be joking!" laughed Alistair. "He's a blood mage! He can't be allowed to just run around unchecked! He's going to the Chantry!" Alistair started to drag Jowan away.

"Is this Alistair who speaks, or the Templar?" demanded Morrigan.

Alistair wheeled round and glared at her. "Well, the Templar, _obviously_," he said petulantly. "But let's see what the mages think as well, shall we?" he said, looking at Blythe and Allis. "What do you two think should be done with him?"

"Let the Templars have the bastard!" said Allis hatefully.

"Blythe?" asked Alistair.

"Just get him away from me," she replied quietly, turning her back on Jowan so he would not see her tears. "I can't even look at him."

"Well," sneered Alistair, "I'm afraid you're outvoted, Morrigan. Although," he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "we do appreciate your efforts in capturing him," as he dragged Jowan toward the Chantry.

Morrigan tutted and scowled. Allis put his arm around Blythe's waist, who was still shaking, before leading her and the others over to an area just north of the village, where they had decided to make camp for the night.

"Are you coming, Morrigan?" he asked. She sighed and followed the rest of the group.

o~~~~~~~~~o

Anders stood beneath the trapdoor, looking through a crack in the wood and listening. He'd heard several Templars pass above in the last half an hour or so, some of whom he expected had entered the Inn. _I'd better not use any magic for a while_, he thought to himself.

He crouched and went though the small door into the tunnel, locking it behind him, then made his way to the second door. He opened it and stood in the doorway quietly for a few moments. Cullen was out of bed and rummaging through Anders' belongings.

"You won't find it there, you know," sighed Anders.

Cullen looked up with a start. "Find what? I wasn't er…this is not what you think," he said unconvincingly.

Anders shrugged as he walked over and sat on one of the crates. "If messing up my bedroll takes your mind off things, be my guest. But you're wasting your time," he said airily.

"Look, Anders, I've been thinking," said Cullen eagerly, "I think I should be weaned off this." Anders rolled his eyes. "No, _listen _to me," he continued, grasping at tenuous reasons to obtain a dose of opium. "If I'm weaned off, we can get out of here more quickly, and then, when we're safely away, then I can come off it completely."

"Forget it," Anders said firmly. "We agreed – _you _agreed – that stopping completely was the best thing to do. Delaying it will just cause you more pain in the long term, Cullen. And besides, we can't go anywhere. This area is crawling with Templars."

"Just a little bit?" Cullen pleaded, mopping sweat from his brow with trembling hands. "I-I can't cope with being cooped up in here, Anders. I feel like the walls are closing in on me!"

"I'm sorry, Cullen," said Anders, shaking his head. "I couldn't give you any even if I wanted to. I've stashed it."

"Stashed it? What do you mean?" cried Cullen sharply. "You're lying! You didn't have time to stash anything! Now, tell me where it is!"

"No, Cullen," Anders replied, "This is for your own good."

A flash of anger crossed Cullen's face as he walked over to Anders. "Those phials belong to me! You have no right to keep them from me!" he shouted.

"Take it easy, big fella," said Anders, holding his palms up. Although the two men were comparable in height, Cullen easily had a 50-pound weight advantage over Anders.

Cullen retrieved his massive, two-handed sword from beneath his bedroll. _What were you thinking, letting him bring that, you idiot? _Anders thought to himself as Cullen placed the blade against his throat.

Anders removed his staff from his back and threw it to the ground. "I'm not going to fight you, Cullen," he said evenly, his calm voice belying his fear.

"This is your last chance, Anders! Stop lying to me and give me what I want!" yelled Cullen desperately. Anders noticed that his eyes appeared to be glazed over.

"Alright then, Cullen," retorted Anders, folding his arms, "kill me. I'm an unarmed mage. What chance do _I_ have against a Templar wielding a bastard sword? And, with me dead, you'll be free to run – right into the Templars you hate so much! They'll take you back to the Tower, and, if they don't execute you, you'll be back at square one – still imprisoned in the Tower, and still addicted to the poison that is causing you to act so foolishly! So go ahead, Cullen! What are you waiting for?"

Cullen gulped and stared at Anders for a moment, the hatred on his face slowly giving way to doubt.

"Cullen?" asked Anders nervously. "I'd really appreciate it if you removed that terrifying hunk of metal from my throat."

Cullen stepped back and removed the sword as requested, letting it fall to the floor. "Anders…" he whispered, shaking his head. "I'm…"

Anders' fear was replaced by pity as Cullen covered his face with his hands and his shoulders shook. "It's alright," Anders said soothingly, putting his arm around Cullen as he wept. "Come on, sit down."

Cullen sat on Anders' bedroll against the wall, brought his knees up to his chest and sobbed into his folded arms. Anders brought him some water and sat next to him on the bedroll.

"Anders…I'm so sorry," Cullen spoke at length, his voice wavering. "I…I don't know what came over me. You're just trying to help me, I know. I-I just don't think I could take it if I had another…dream like that."

"Dream?" asked Anders. "What happened?"

Cullen raised his head, wiping his tears away, and looked pitifully at Anders. His face was so pale, Anders could see the veins beneath the surface. "I dreamed about that poor boy I killed, Anders," he whispered.

"You mean Scott, don't you?" Anders replied softly, referring to the apprentice Cullen had been forced to slay during his Harrowing.

Cullen nodded and sniffed loudly. "I don't know if it was a dream, but it seemed like he was really here – in this room – standing over my bedroll. He was bleeding," he mumbled, his voice breaking. "He had a hole in his belly. He said he was in the Fade where Demons tormented him day and night! He said that every second of his life was now filled with torture and pain and fire! He started weeping and begged me to end it for him, but I didn't know how, Anders!"

Anders put his arm around Cullen's shoulders as tears fell down his face.

"I did that to him!" Cullen wailed, collapsing into sobs once more.

"It was a dream, Cullen," Anders whispered, swallowing hard. "Look, as a mage I can tell you that you did Scott a favour. If I were ever to become possessed, I would want it over as quickly as possible. Scott knew it could happen, we all do. I really don't envy you Templars that part of the job."

Cullen nodded slowly. "But I'd never killed anything in my life before that – not even a fly. He looked at me, Anders – as my sword went through him – I'll never forget the look in his eyes. He was so brave, he didn't cry or scream or shout. He just looked at me, like he couldn't believe what I'd done. I think a part of me died that day with him."

"Well, of course it did," replied Anders. "That's because you're a human being and a decent man, Cullen. But you'll heal over time. I know it doesn't seem that way now, but you will. This is a low point in your life, Cullen – things can only get better, and they will, I promise."

"I'm sorry for threatening you, Anders," said Cullen, deeply ashamed. "Will you dispose of that sword, or _stash _it somewhere – you seem to be good at that," he asked, a faint smile crossing his lips.

Anders laughed, relieved to see a tiny glimmer of humour from Cullen. "Oh, I'm way ahead of you there, don't you worry," he smiled. "I'll ask Dav to put it away - my staff, too. That way, if we get into another fight, we'll have to rely on fists only. Oh, wait – I'm still fucked either way!"

Cullen giggled a little, then his shoulders shook as he laughed properly for the first time in days, tears rolling down his face. He looked at Anders and spoke. "You're doubly fucked," he smiled, causing Anders to gasp in astonishment, as he'd never heard Cullen use curse words before. "I don't need a staff _or _a sword to smite you."

The two men threw their heads back and laughed, before falling silent and eventually succumbing to sleep sitting next to each other, with Anders' arm still around his friend's shoulder.

o~~~~~~~~o

Alistair returned to camp after turning Jowan over to Ser Bryant, the Templar in charge of the Lothering Chantry. He walked past a glowering Morrigan, who was receiving unsolicited hair and beauty tips from Leliana. Reaper bounded up to him, and Alistair grabbed his snout in greeting as he looked over toward a lone tree, where Blythe and Allis sat.

He hesitated for a moment, then walked over to them, with Reaper at his heel. "May we join you?" he asked hesitantly upon reaching them.

Allis looked at Blythe, who nodded and gestured for him to sit down.

"Are you alright, Blythe?" asked Alistair, sitting down in front of them both. He could tell she'd been crying.

Blythe shrugged and cast her eyes down. "He just brought some memories back to me, that's all. I thought I'd come to terms with it…leaving the Tower, I mean. But…" Her words trailed off as she shook her head sadly. She sighed and spoke again. "I suppose you were wondering what that was all about, weren't you?" she asked of Alistair.

He and Allis exchanged glances. "I've…told him, Blythe," said Allis, "about Cullen. I hope you don't mind." Blythe shrugged and shook her head.

"Cullen…I thought that's what you said earlier," said Alistair. "I think I know him, well at least I used to."

"Really?" asked Blythe animatedly.

"Yeah," he replied. "He was at the Chantry in Redcliffe when I arrived there. He was a couple of years older than I was. Red hair? Really, really shy? First name Sebastian?"

"_Sebastian_? I didn't know that! But yes, that sounds like him!" laughed Blythe, with tears in her eyes. Allis grinned at her but felt sadness at the same time.

"We were friends," Alistair said, smiling fondly. "I don't remember how exactly, because we were both so shy at first we could barely look people in the eye, but somehow we hit it off. I was always the naughty one, playing pranks and being cheeky, and he was the one hiding in the background and sniggering while I was sent to scrub pots in the kitchen!

As we grew older, though, the two of us had a few…conversations. We both had misgivings about becoming Templars. We couldn't tell anybody else. We confided in each other."

Alistair sighed and continued. "I was desperately unhappy. Luckily for me, Duncan conscripted me before I took my final vows. If it hadn't been for Duncan, I…" he sighed again. "It looks like Cullen did take his final vows, though, if he ended up in the Tower. Was he happy there?" he asked Blythe.

"It's hard to say," replied Blythe, looking at Allis, who shrugged. "He wasn't like the other Templars, that's for sure. Quite a few of the mages considered him a friend."

"I can believe that," smiled Alistair. "He was a very sweet-natured man."

Silence fell between the three of them for a while. Blythe stood up and went over to her backpack, retrieving a few items, before returning.

"Right," she said, changing the subject as she sat on the ground. "I promised Allis I would teach him to heal. Alistair, would you mind being our patient?"

Allis shot her a sly glance as Alistair recoiled in mock horror. "You're not going to cut my arm off or anything, are you?"

"I doubt even I could heal that," she chuckled. "No, I just want to make a few nicks to your hand. I'm sure a beefy warrior such as yourself can handle that!"

"Why can't you nick your own hand?" groaned Alistair.

"Because I'll be demonstrating, then Allis will have to copy me. Now give me your hand. Come closer, Allis."

Allis scooted nearer to Alistair, sitting opposite him. Alistair reluctantly proffered his hand to Blythe, who grinned at him before making a small cut to his hand with a tiny blade. Alistair winced and yelped dramatically. Blythe took his hand and kissed it, instantly healing the cut.

"Oh, now you're just showing off!" protested Allis. The three of them laughed. Blythe then made another small cut to Alistair's hand and moved it toward Allis.

"Take his hand, Allis," Blythe instructed. Allis took Alistair's hand in his own, shooting Blythe an amused look as he did so. Alistair shifted about. "Now, touch the cut with your other hand and concentrate. Picture the skin on either side knitting itself together. Now do this," she said, softly stroking Alistair's hand.

Allis looked Alistair directly in the eyes and grinned as he stroked the whole length of his hand. Alistair blushed and giggled softly. A faint green light emanated from Alistair's hand as the tiny cut slowly mended itself.

"Well done, Allis!" chirped Blythe. "Now, for something a little bigger."

"Hey!" protested Alistair. "I didn't agree to that!"

"Hold still!" chided Blythe. "You Templars are brave enough when dealing with smited mages," she teased, "but you balk at a tiny little cut?"

Alistair laughed good-naturedly and looked at Allis, who grinned back at him.

Blythe made a slightly larger cut to Alistair's hand. He didn't wince this time, as he was still giggling. "Proceed," Blythe said to Allis.

Allis took Alistair's hand in his, then, as he looked directly at Alistair, softly stroked with his other hand. Alistair knew that Allis was looking at him and laughed softly, unable to meet his gaze.

Blythe stood up. "I'm going to see how Leliana's getting on with supper," she said. "You two carry on. I want you to be able to heal an inch-long cut by the time I return."

She smiled to herself as she walked away, whistling for Reaper to follow her. As she approached the two women, she turned back just in time to see Allis planting a soft kiss on Alistair's lips, and Alistair's hand reaching up to stroke Allis' hair.

Blythe watched them for a moment, tears welling in her eyes as she smiled sadly and thought of Cullen. _As long as one of us finds happiness, that's good enough for me, _she thought as a tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away and took a deep breath, plastering a bland smile on her face as she walked toward Morrigan and Leliana.


	9. Revealing the truth

**Thank you to Jen, Shakespira, voltagelisa, Eva Galana, Nithu, CCBug, jenncgf and Cousland1982 for your wonderful reviews!**

**And special thanks to my good friend Jen for another excellent editing job! You're the best! ;)**

**_The Qun _and all characters with the exception of Blythe and Allis belong to Bioware.**

o~~~~~~~~o

The Wardens and their eclectic band of companions began to stir as the sun rose over Lothering. Only one person had been needed to take watch as they were still within the confines of the village. Knowing she would never get to sleep, Blythe had volunteered for first watch, and Reaper had stayed at her side to keep her company. Blythe now lay fast asleep in her tent, as fatigue finally overwhelmed her.

Alistair had taken second watch, and was now preparing breakfast as the others rose. He grinned at Allis, who walked over and winked at him. Allis' face fell when he saw what Alistair had prepared for breakfast.

"What's…_that_?" he asked doubtfully, looking at the grey mush in the pot Alistair stirred.

"This," Alistair smiled proudly, "is Fereldan lamb and pea stew. I learned to make it while on the road with Duncan and the other Wardens. Although," he added with a slight frown, "it sometimes wasn't needed. Usually the other Wardens had already eaten before I'd made it. Oh, well. Their loss, I suppose."

"I see." Allis grinned, raising an eyebrow.

"Here, have a taste," said Alistair, offering him a spoonful.

Allis gulped hard. "Thanks," he muttered, and reluctantly raised the spoon to his mouth as Alistair looked on expectantly. Upon tasting the foul slop, Allis' left eye clamped shut and his mouth twisted in disgust.

"Too salty, right?" mused Alistair. "Hmmm. I always make that mistake."

"Salty?" gasped Allis, his eyes streaming. "I think I'll need to eat some salt to take the saltiness away!"

Alistair grinned sheepishly. "Well," he asked, "can't you cast a spell on it or something, to make it more appetising?"

Allis laughed at Alistair's hopeless optimism. "Alistair," he joked, "I'm only a mage, not the Maker himself!" Then, seeing the disappointment behind his smile, Allis took his Alistair's hand and pulled him behind a tree.

"There is something you're good at, though," purred Allis. "You're a first-rate kisser."

"Oh?" Alistair asked, blushing. "Remind me?"

Allis stood on his tiptoes and reached for Alistair's face. The Templar leaned down and softly brushed his lips against Allis', wrapping his arms around the mage's waist.

His neck hurting from the difference in their heights, Alistair moved his hands to Allis' bottom and lifted him up, resting him against the tree as Allis' legs wrapped around his waist.

"Hello, there!" giggled Allis as he wrapped his arms around Alistair's neck.

"Hello, yourself," Alistair whispered, breathing heavily, as he leaned in toward Allis and kissed him deeply. Allis moaned softly as he felt the weight of the huge warrior pressing against him. Alistair felt his stomach knot as the mage's hands traced softly through his hair and down his neck.

Alistair gently pulled away, his face crimson, a huge grin spread across his face. He cleared his throat and set Allis down on the ground.

"Now, why'd you go and stop, just when I was getting into my stride?" moaned Allis playfully.

"Well," grinned Alistair. "We have an audience." Reaper sat next to them, watching intently, his head cocked to one side.

"Sorry, boy," Allis chuckled, ruffling the fur on Reaper's head, "No kisses for you. Your breath isn't as nice as Alistair's!"

The two men laughed, and turned as they heard voices coming from behind them.

Jowan was being led from the Chantry, bound and gagged, by four Templars. Two of them helped him onto a horse, and tied him to it, before the Templars mounted their own horses and rode out of the village with Jowan in the centre of the procession.

"Not taking any chances, are they?" Allis observed.

Alistair shook his head. "Nope. They'll take him back to the Tower for execution." He turned to Allis with a quizzical expression on his face. "I have to say, I was surprised when you agreed with me on what should be done with him. I thought that mages would stick up for one another."

"Not with him," replied Allis. "I saw what he did to those Templars in the Tower – it was completely unnecessary. He could have paralysed them or enthralled them, but he meant to kill them. And he just ran off and abandoned Lily and Blythe to their fates. Then, when he went to pull that dagger out last night? No. He deserves everything he gets."

They watched as four more Templars exited the Chantry, flanking an enormous man who resembled a human, but his ashen skin and red eyes told otherwise.

"What's that?" asked Allis.

"That's a Qunari," Alistair replied. "They're a race of proud and mighty warriors hailing from Par Vollen in northern Thedas. The Chantry has raised several Exalted Marches against them throughout history, so they hate one another. They have some very interesting ideas about mages," Alistair added with a grin.

"What do you mean, interesting?" asked Allis.

"They call them _saarebas_ – meaning defective tools - and keep them on a leash," he chuckled.

Allis looked at Alistair doubtfully, then, realising he was being serious, spoke. "In that case, I'm surprised the Chantry doesn't love them," he remarked.

"True!" laughed Alistair, as they watched the Qunari being locked in a cage by the Templars, who then headed back to the Chantry.

"You don't think they've locked him in there just for being a Qunari, do you?" asked Allis.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Alistair replied. "Shall we go and speak to him? I think we could use someone like that."

"Good idea," Allis concurred as they walked over toward the cage.

As they approached, they realised with awe how huge the Qunari actually was. He towered over Alistair – who was easily 6'4" tall himself – and he must have weighed in excess of 350 pounds. He stood proudly with his eyes closed, and chanted softly to himself.

_Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Annan esaam Qun._

He repeated this over and over again. Allis and Alistair looked at one another, not wanting to disturb him. Alistair cleared his throat. The Qunari opened his eyes and glared at them.

"You are not one of my captors," he said in a deep and surprisingly soft voice. "I will not amuse you any more than I have the other humans. Leave me in peace."

"You're a prisoner?" asked Allis.

"I am in a cage, am I not?" he replied without malice. "I have been placed here by the Chantry."

"Have you a name, Ser?" asked Alistair.

"I am Sten of the Beresaad, the Vanguard of the Qunari peoples."

"I am Alistair, and this is Allis. Pleased to meet you."

Sten regarded them with scepticism. "You mock me," he replied, "Or you show manners I have not come to expect in your lands. Though it matters little now. I will die soon enough. I suggest you leave me to my fate."

Allis and Alistair conferred quietly for a moment. Allis approached the cage and spoke. "We find ourselves in need of skilled help."

"No doubt," Sten replied. "What help do you seek?"

"We are sworn to defend the land against the Blight," Allis replied.

Sten appeared interested in this. "The Blight? You are Grey Wardens, then?" Allis nodded. "Surprising. My people have heard legends of the Grey Wardens' strength and skill, though I suppose not every legend is true."

Allis smiled good-naturedly. "Then you can see why we need your help, Sten!" he grinned. "Do you think the Revered Mother would set you free?"

"Perhaps if you told her the Grey Wardens need my assistance?" Sten pondered. "It seems as likely to bring my death as waiting here."

"We'll return later," said Allis.

"Farewell, then," replied Sten.

o~~~~~~~~~~~o

Anders and Dav stood beneath the trapdoor, speaking quietly. Dav had brought Anders and Cullen some water. It was late morning, and Anders' exhaustion was evident in the morning light.

"How is Cullen?" asked Dav.

Anders rubbed his eyes hard and yawned. "Not too good, Dav. He hasn't slept properly for two nights, now, and neither have I. We nodded off for a bit last night, but I woke up when he started talking to himself. For the last few hours he's been having conversations with people who aren't there. He's losing touch with reality."

"Those bastards," muttered Dav, referring to the Chantry, not actually realising the true gravity of the situation. "Is this what you were expecting?"

Anders nodded and yawned again. "Yes, and I'm hoping he'll come through it. Although I've heard of addicts who never recover completely." Anders voice broke at the end of the sentence. "Oh, sorry, Dav. I'm just so tired it's making me weepy! I just can't risk putting him to sleep with the Templars around."

"Well, that's another reason I came to see you," said Dav, "the Templars have other things on their mind at the moment. A group of them just rode in from Lothering. They caught Jowan, and have just taken him back to the Tower. It looks like they've postponed the search for you for the time being, at least in this area."

"They caught him? Good," Anders muttered. "I just wish I could have got my hands on him," he said angrily as he yawned once more.

"Come on," said Dav. "I think we can risk a little spell. I'll put you both to sleep."

"Oh, thanks, Dav," sighed Anders as they made their way through the tunnel, Dav locking the first door behind them. As they entered through the second door, Anders put a finger to his lips.

They stood in the doorway and watched Cullen for a few minutes. He sat hunched in the corner with his knees drawn up to his chest, a pained expression on his face. Although he directly faced the two mages, he appeared not to see them.

"I'm so sorry," he sobbed quietly to himself. "I should have done more to protect you. I just let you go, and now I don't know where you are, or if I'll ever see you again. I don't even know if you're still alive…" with that, he broke down in tears.

"Who's he talking about?" whispered Dav.

"Blythe," replied Anders. "A mage from the Tower. They were in love with each other, but she was conscripted into the Grey Wardens five days ago."

"The Grey Wardens?" whispered Dav. "Have you told him about Ostagar?"

Anders shook his head. "No, and I'm not looking forward to it, either. I don't think he needs to know at the moment, do you?"

"I love you!" Cullen shouted, distraught, looking straight ahead, "please believe me, Blythe! No, I would _never_ wish harm upon you! No, I _didn't _want you to leave! Why are you saying that? I love you…!"

Dav gestured for Anders to lie down, and he complied. Dav crouched down next to Cullen and held his hand over him, speaking softly as he sent the Templar to sleep. Dav moved Cullen into a lying position and pulled a blanket over him.

Dav shook his head and walked over to Anders. "This'll put you out for about five hours. I'll come back and see you then."

Anders clasped his hand. "Thank you," he said as Dav put him to sleep.

o~~~~~~~~~~o

A group of men stopped at a likely spot for an ambush along the Imperial Highway between Lothering and Redcliffe. One of their spies had just returned with information regarding the Grey Wardens' activities in Lothering.

"Are you certain of what you heard?" asked the leader, a blond, tattooed elf with golden eyes.

"Yes, boss," the mole replied. "Stood outside the tavern, I did, when they sent Loghain's men packing. Then I overheard one of 'em – this big fella with light brown hair. He was talking to this elf - a mage, I think…"

"Spare me the physical description," interrupted the elf. "I already have one. Just tell me what they said."

"Oh, right," mumbled the infiltrator. "They said they're leaving for Redcliffe today."

"How many?" asked the elf.

"Er, three, boss," he replied. "I thought you knew that…"

"Not how many Wardens, you imbecile!" the elf exclaimed. "How many are travelling with them?"

"Oh, erm, let me see…they got this woman from the Chantry, another woman, a mage I think, but she looks scary…a dog, and this big oaf they let out of a cage."

"A dog. You really think I need to know this?" said the elf flatly.

"Well, it was a _big_ dog. One of them Mabari."

"How about the female Warden?" asked the elf, a wicked smile on his face. "Was she pleasing to the eye?"

"Oh, yes boss. Very pleasing! She had a right nice set of knockers on her! I don't suppose you'd let us…have a go?"

The elf looked disgusted. "Knockers? What about her face? Did you even look at that? No, I guess not. And _no_, I don't suppose you _could_ 'have a go'."

The elf stood up and looked into the distance, taking a deep breath. "It has been too long since I have known a woman. Men, they are a pleasing distraction. But women…they are softer, and smell nicer. And are less hairy…well, except for that one woman…at least, I think it was a woman. But, I digress.

Speaking of smelling nice," he said to the mole, fanning his hand in front of his face, "you need to take a bath!"

"Well, I have been on the road…" the spy muttered. The elf waved him away impatiently. A blonde woman dressed in peasant clothing walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

"You know, Zev, if it's a woman you want to know…" she purred seductively, stroking his ear.

"No thank you, my dear," the elf replied, swatting her hand away. "You are working with the Crows now. We don't shit where we eat. We have to keep our minds on our marks. Get into position. If you gain a high vantage point in those hills, you will see them approach long before they see us."

"Charming," the woman muttered, making her way up into the hills.

o~~~~~~~~~~o

The Wardens were packed and ready to leave. They'd earned some money from the Chantry Board, and had stocked up on provisions. Allis bought some basic armour and weapons for Sten and Leliana before they left. Alistair's stew had 'accidentally' been tipped over by Blythe, so they'd had dried rations for breakfast. Alistair had been very quiet as they were preparing to leave, and Blythe wondered if she'd offended him over the stew incident, so she went over to talk to him.

"Is everything alright, Alistair?" she asked, sitting next to him and putting her hand on his back as he pulled his boots on.

Alistair looked up at her and sighed. "Allis!" he called and beckoned the elf over.

Allis approached and sat in front of them. "What's up, big fella?" he trilled, then his face fell as he realised that Alistair looked troubled.

"There's something I need to tell you two," said Alistair, looking at the floor. "And I don't know how you're going to take it."

"Just spit it out," said Blythe. "It'll be over and done with then."

He sighed again and spoke, not looking at either of them. "Alright. You remember I told you that Arl Eamon raised me, right? And that he didn't have to?" Allis and Blythe nodded, looking puzzled.

"Well, the reason he did that was…because…my father was King Maric."

Silence fell. Alistair's gut knotted as he dreaded their reaction. _Say something, please, _he thought desperately.

"Are you sure?" asked Blythe at long last. Alistair nodded and looked at Allis, who averted his eyes, his face unreadable.

"Doesn't that make you heir to the throne?" Blythe asked in awe.

"What?" cried Alistair. "I hope not! At least I don't think…no. It was always made very clear to me that I was a commoner, and now a Grey Warden, and in no way in line to the throne."

"So why are you telling us now?" Blythe asked gently.

"Because I didn't want us walking into Redcliffe without you knowing. It will probably come up, and I didn't want any…awkwardness." He said quietly, looking at Allis, who had not yet said a word. "Look, I _would _have told you sooner," he explained, "but how do you bring something like that up? Ho, there! My name's Alistair, and my father was the King?" The Templar fell silent after realising his weak attempt at humour had failed.

"Does Loghain know?" Blythe asked.

"I would imagine so," he replied heavily, "as he fought with King Maric, and apparently I'm the spitting image of Maric when he was younger.

Well," he stood up, eager to change the subject. "There it is. You know now. I really didn't want to tell you at all, but I thought you had a right to know."

"Why didn't you want to tell us?" asked Blythe, standing up with him.

"Because people change when they find out. They see me as the bastard prince instead of just Alistair. Duncan knew, and kept me out of the fighting because of it. I wanted you not to know for as long as possible. If it means anything to you at all," he said, directing his words towards Allis, "I have no intention of taking the throne. In fact, the very idea terrifies me.

No, the rightful heir is Eamon. He has a claim through marriage, and, more importantly, he's very well liked by the people. That is, if he's alright…oh, I hope he's alright."

Blythe felt terribly sad for Alistair, and leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek. "Well, you'll always be just Alistair to me," she said, smiling, and pinched his cheek. Alistair forced a smile in return and watched as she walked away, leaving he and Allis to talk.


	10. Cullen sees the light

**Thank you all so much for your kind reviews!**

**And Jen, another great job, I don't know what I'd do without you! Thank you so much xx**

o~~~~~~~~~o

Davlamin returned, as promised, to check on Anders and Cullen after their sleep. Anders was stirring as he entered.

"Do you feel any better, Anders?" he asked.

Anders clutched his head and groaned. "A bit heavy-headed, but yes, I think that did the trick," he said as he got to his feet. He walked over to Cullen, who was snoring loudly and murmuring.

Anders stood over him and renewed the sleep spell. "I'll give him another few hours," he said to Dav. "He needs it."

"Do you think Cullen is beyond the 'shouting' stage now, Anders?" asked Dav.

Anders puffed his cheeks out. "I think so," he replied. "I don't think he has the strength to shout any more. Why do you ask?"

"Well," said Dav. "A room has become vacant on the top floor of the Inn. The landlord owes me a favour, and said you can both stay there for a while. I think the two of you need to get out of here," he muttered, looking around the room. "People usually stay in here for maybe one night, two at the most. I don't think it'll do either of you any good to stay in here for much longer, least of all Cullen."

Anders nodded his head. "Yes, that would be great. And we'd have a window, and fresh air. Yes, that would do Cullen a lot of good. When can we move in?"

"Tonight," answered Dav, "just to be on the safe side. Although, you may not have to worry about the Templars for the time being."

"Why's that?" Anders asked.

"Something is going on at the Tower," replied Dav with a grin. "Something _serious_. You missed all the fun while you were asleep. I could see explosions and fires from this side of the lake…"

"Explosions?" interrupted Anders.

"Yes," Dav replied. **"**And Kester has been laid off. He's staying at the Inn. He told me that Gregoir is not allowing anyone to enter _or _leave the Tower, and they've kept the boats over on their side. You'd have to swim to get to the Tower at the moment."

"Does Kester know anything?" asked Anders excitedly.

"Nope," replied Dav. "Gregoir wouldn't tell him anything.

"I wonder if it has anything to do with Jowan?" Anders wondered. "After all, he's only just returned to the Tower. Bit of a coincidence, don't you think?"

Dav laughed. "You think he's taken over the Tower? That worm? Maker help us all if he has!"

Anders shook his head. "No…if the Tower had been taken over, how would Gregoir be able to speak to Kester? And you say the boats have been kept over on the other side? It sounds like the Templars are still in control…my, my. This _is _interesting!" he grinned, rubbing his hands together.

"Maybe there's been a possession?" asked Dav.

"Yes, that would make more sense," Anders agreed. "A major one. Would Jowan be capable of summoning a Demon? Is he that powerful?" his face dropped. "Unless…"

Sudden realisation and dread flooded into Anders. _Uldred. _Anders had disassociated himself from the senior mage after Uldred had started talking about seizing control of the Tower. Anders would have welcomed a split from the Chantry, but he wasn't a complete idiot. He didn't want to be run through by a Templar, either. Anders had also suspected Uldred of being a blood mage, after he had offered to make Anders 'more powerful than he could possibly dream of.'

"Unless what?" Dav interrupted.

"Oh, nothing," replied Anders, taking a deep breath.

"Alright," Dav said, giving him a curious look. "Tonight, then, let's say…midnight. Get your things together, and I'll come and give you a hand."

"Thank you so much," said Anders genuinely, shaking Dav's hand and clutching his shoulder. "I'll make this up to you, I promise."

"No payment necessary this time, Anders," grinned Dav. "Just get that Templar friend of yours to fuck the Chantry up. That'll be thanks enough for me."

"I will," Anders said determinedly. "If it's the last thing I do."

o~~~~~~~~~~o

Dav arrived at midnight as promised. Anders had packed his and Cullen's meagre belongings. Cullen, in spite of getting plenty of sleep, was in no condition to help. He was extremely lethargic, and hadn't spoken to Anders at all since waking up; instead he mumbled to himself and occasionally wept.

Dav and Anders helped Cullen to his feet. They moved him and their belongings to just beneath the trapdoor, and Dav went up above ground to look around. "Shit!" Anders heard him exclaim.

"What's wrong?" Anders asked from below.

"There's a Templar at the jetty, and the boat is back," muttered Dev, crouching down. "Listen, I'll distract him. You and Cullen get to the rear of the Inn. _Don't _cast any spells, whatever you do!"

"Right!" whispered Anders.

Dav hid his staff and walked over toward the jetty. He rolled his eyes as he realised who the Templar was – Ser Carroll. A rat-faced, smarmy jobsworth, who was often among the groups that came to the Inn searching for Anders or Tannin when they absconded, as well as a few other occasional escapees.

"What's all this then?" asked Dav as he approached Carroll.

"What's all what?" asked Carroll obtusely.

Dav rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. "Why has Kester been laid off? What's going on at the Tower?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," sniffed Carroll.

"Well, can you fetch someone who _is _at liberty to say, then?" Dav replied with irritation in his voice. "Someone in _authority_?"

"I have authority!" snapped Carroll indignantly, "I just choose not to tell you, that's all!"

"Must be something big, then, eh?" winked Dav, scratching his head and taking a surreptitious glance behind him. Anders and Cullen were crawling along the ground and had nearly reached the Inn. "If I didn't know better, I'd say someone had become possessed!"

"I don't know where you got that idea from," said Carroll, his voice and eyes betraying him.

"Well, it's happened before, hasn't it?" said Dav. "Looks like the Templars haven't been doing their jobs again."

"I take exception to that remark!" cried Carroll.

Dav glanced behind him and saw that Anders and Cullen were gone. "Well, nice talking to you," he muttered as he walked off.

"Hey…wait a minute!" cried Carroll.

Dav turned around to face him. "Was there something you wanted?" he asked.

"Well," murmured Carroll, "I thought you might stay a bit longer, that's all. I'm bored standing around here on my own."

"Are you going to tell me what's happened at the Tower or not?" Dav asked hopefully.

"No!"

"You can talk to yourself then," laughed Dav, walking away. "Goodnight to you."

o~~~~~~~~~~o

The Wardens and their companions left Lothering after lunch, with fair weather and the wind at their backs. An invisible cloud seemed to hover over the group, however, as an uneasy and almost deafening silence hung between Alistair and Allis. Blythe looked over at them occasionally as Leliana complimented her on her choice of robe.

Even Reaper knew that something was wrong. He had not invited his master to play and walked alongside him, occasionally glancing upwards.

Blythe couldn't bear to see the two of them so unhappy, and sidled up to Allis, who she knew slightly better than she did Alistair.

"Did you and Alistair have a talk?" she asked quietly.

Allis glanced at her quickly, as though snapped out of a dream. "Hmm? Erm…no, not really," he muttered.

"Well, don't you think you should?" she replied. "Look at him, Allis." Alistair walked slightly ahead of them, in much the same way he had when they left Flemeth's hut – like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"I can't," whispered Allis. "I don't know what to say to him."

"Are you afraid he'll leave you if he becomes King?" Blythe asked.

Allis looked at her mournfully, the usual sparkle gone from his dark green eyes. "I…no. Why would I think that? I hardly know him, do I? He and I may not even be together by the time he becomes King, should that even happen," he replied unconvincingly.

"You'd like to be though, wouldn't you?" she stated more than she asked.

Allis looked at her again with wide eyes. Unable to find an answer to that, he remained silent.

"Look," Blythe said gently. "Even if you don't know what to say, just let him know that you don't hate him. Think of how he must have felt having to tell you he's the heir to the throne. Just let him know that your feelings haven't changed. They haven't, have they?"

Allis remained silent for a moment. "No," he whispered.

"Go to him, then," pleaded Blythe softly.

Allis approached Alistair from behind and hesitated for a moment, before taking Alistair's hand in his own. Alistair's mouth fell open and they looked at one another for a moment, before he stopped and pulled Allis into a tight embrace. Blythe smiled lopsidedly and caught up to the others, with Reaper close behind, his tail wagging once again.

They had not ventured far from Lothering before they encountered a lone woman, seemingly in distress. She ran up to the group upon spotting them, and stopped, gasping for breath and clutching her knees.

"Oh, thank the Maker someone is on the road! Please, help me! Bandits attacked my caravan! My family is hurt! Oh, please help!"

Blythe's instincts as a healer kicked in and she ran after the woman, only to be called back by Allis. "Let's be cautious," he warned. "A lot of people are after us, remember?"

"Yes, you're right," she replied. She and Allis readied their staves, as did Morrigan, and the rest of the party took out their weapons. Reaper's body was his weapon, and was always ready for battle .

As they rounded a corner, it appeared on first glance that the woman had been telling the truth. A caravan stood overturned and several people lay on the ground. As they drew nearer, however, they got the distinct feeling that they were being watched.

Reaper stopped still with his hackles raised. "Something isn't right here," murmured Blythe.

"An ambush," stated Sten, who had much experience of such situations. "I suggest that you _saarebas _and the archer look to the hills, while the Templar, the hound and I cover the ground." With that, he walked forward.

"I guess that settles that," said Blythe, smiling. "Are you ready, saarebas?" she asked Morrigan and Allis, who nodded. "You two take that side, then. Come on, Leliana. I want to see you in action again." She and Leliana walked over to the opposite side of the canyon wall, as Alistair and Reaper followed Sten.

From behind the caravan, a blond, tattooed elf appeared and watched the cautious travellers approach. He smiled smugly to himself and raised his hand, signalling his men to break from cover. Half a dozen of them emerged, behind the elf, and the men who had been lying on the ground stood up and readied their weapons. Thanks to Sten's insight, Leliana and the mages were ready for the archers' appearance in the hills above, and let loose with arrows and bolts.

The elf ran forward, unsheathing his daggers, crying "the Grey Wardens die here!" as two men pushed a huge tree trunk over a precipice toward Alistair. Sten, moving more quickly than his appearance denoted, pushed Alistair out of the way in the nick of time, saving his life. In the process, Sten took a blow to the shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Blythe gasped and ran over, immediately healing his shoulder and rejuvenating him. Sten got to his feet, nodded once, and headed back towards Alistair and Reaper.

Leliana, Allis and Morrigan had taken care of most of the archers, so Blythe followed Sten into the thick of the battle to support the warriors. She cast Glyph of Repulsion around Alistair, who was surrounded by five men, and he laughed as they were thrown onto their backs. He and Sten made quick work of them, supported from a distance by Blythe. The elf, cunningly hidden in the shade of a tree, was no match for Reaper's nose. The Mabari launched himself onto the elf, pinning him to the ground, and savagely biting his hands as the attacker tried in vain to use his daggers.

"Don't kill him, Reaper!" cried Allis as he and the others joined the melee. "We need him for questioning!"

Reaper, using his mouth, moved the elf's daggers to a safe distance, and stood menacingly over him, occasionally baring his teeth and snarling. "Get up!" shouted Blythe, who had approached from behind. The elf did as he was commanded, and stood impassively as she tied his hands behind his back, wincing as she touched his mangled skin.

"Ataash qunari!" cried Sten as the last of their foes were slain.

The party approached Blythe's position and looked at the elf. "Is anyone injured?" she asked.

"Yes!" cried the elf indignantly. "Just look at my hands! They are in shreds! I only had them manicured three days ago!"

Ignoring him, Blythe turned back to the group. "Is anyone important injured?" she asked again. Alistair stepped forward, wincing. He had a gash to his neck. "I think you can handle this, Allis," she said, winking at him as he walked over to Alistair. Alistair crouched down, grinning shyly up at Allis as he touched his neck. Blythe noticed with satisfaction that Allis' other hand stroked the back of Alistair's head.

"I will take care of the elf," Sten said, wielding his huge sword menacingly.

"We need some questions answered first, Sten," replied Blythe.

"Yes." Sten replied flatly. "Then I will slay the elf."

"Erm, excuse me for just one moment!" their captive laughed nervously. "Do I have any say in this? Can we not come to some arrangement whereby I retain my life?"

"We'll see," said Blythe, folding her arms. "Who are you? You obviously know who we are."

The elf grinned and narrowed his eyes. "Hmm…" he purred, eyeing Blythe seductively. "Tough, intelligent _and _beautiful. You must be the female Warden, no?"

"Answer the question!" Sten yelled, frightening everyone.

The elf laughed. "But of course, my ape-like friend! My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends. I am part of the Antivan Crows…"

"The Antivan Crows?" Leliana interrupted. "They are considered the finest of assassins, and are therefore very expensive."

"The best?" scoffed Allis. "Well, we're all still alive. What went wrong, eh?"

"Ah," laughed Zevran. "So this is how it's going to be? We play good Warden, bad Warden, yes? Well, I'm game. And I am already tied up," he said, winking at Blythe. "So, who will be interrogating me? I hope it shall be you, my dear."

"This is getting us nowhere," sighed Blythe, taking out her staff and pointing it at Zevran. The rest of the party knew she was bluffing, as she hadn't the magic to kill anyone, but Zevran didn't.

"Wait!" he cried. "Wait…let me save you the trouble of torturing me for information. I was hired by a rather taciturn fellow I met in Denerim, by the name of Loghain."

"Loghain?" cried Alistair. "He hired you to kill us?"

"He hired us to kill any Wardens who survived the battle at Ostagar," Zevran replied. "He had heard rumours that some survived."

"So he did plan for us all to be wiped out!" spat Alistair. "Do you have to report back to Loghain?"

"No," replied Zevran. "There was to be no further contact with him. His lackey paid me, and I was to complete the task. End of story."

"And what happens now the task has failed?" asked Allis.

"Well," Zevran sighed. **"**I have been paid for something I have failed at, therefore my life is forfeit. I cannot return to the Crows. So I would like to make a proposal, if you will listen to it."

"Make it quick," said Allis.

"Well, as I said, I cannot return to the Crows," he shrugged. "They will know of my failure when they hear of the lack of Grey Warden corpses among those of the Crows'. And, as I have failed, and have therefore disgraced the Crows, they will slay me on sight, should I return. So, I propose this: I will pledge my allegiance to you. I think my skills may come in handy for you, no?"

"You want us to take you with us?" Allis asked in disbelief. "So what's to stop you from finishing the job later on?"

Zevran looked confused. "And what reason would I have to do that, my handsome friend? The job has failed. The Crows will discover this soon enough. I would have nothing to gain from killing any of you, especially as travelling with you would also afford me protection. I think this could work both ways, yes?"

"What are your skills?" asked Blythe.

"Well, my dear," he leered, causing Blythe to roll her eyes, "I am deadly with poisons and a master of devising, and disabling, traps. I can blend into the shadows with ease and conceal myself, although," he added, "not from our smart hound here, hm?"

"Hiding in the shadows. A coward's way," commented Sten.

"Well, that is your opinion, and I for one am not stupid enough to argue with one so immense as yourself!" Zevran replied, craning his neck to meet Sten's eyes.

"There is another alternative," suggested Sten. "We slay you where you stand. Then you will no longer have to worry about the Crows slaying you."

"How very considerate of you to consider my feelings in such a way!" Zevran said sarcastically. "Well," he sighed, "it seems that the Grey Wardens have two choices. Take me with you, or slay me. I am at your mercy, it seems."

Allis gathered the rest of the group to ask their opinions. Sten stayed where he was, watching Zevran closely. "My opinion is known," he muttered, glaring at the assassin.

Opinion was split. Leliana and Blythe felt he deserved a second chance, while Alistair and Allis were not keen on him accompanying them, yet were not in favour of slaying him in cold blood. Morrigan had no opinion either way.

After some discussion, Allis approached Zevran and unbound him. "It seems that taking you with us is slightly more palatable than killing you," he said as Zevran massaged his wrists to get the circulation going again.

"Then I pledge an oath of allegiance to you," Zevran said solemnly, placing his fist over his heart. "I am yours, until such time as you see fit to release me, or death take me. This I swear." He bowed.

"Reaper," called Allis. The Mabari walked up to him and sat down. "Don't take your eyes off him. If he tries anything, kill him." Reaper barked loudly and bared his fangs at Zevran.

Blythe walked up to him and took his hands in her own. "Oh!" cried Zevran. "So is this a traditional Grey Warden greeting? Do you know of any others?" he grinned at her and winked.

"Don't get any ideas," Blythe said firmly as a green glow emanated from Zevran's hands. "I'm healing you. You're no good to us with mangled hands."

Zevran watched with wonder as his skin knitted together, leaving no sign of injury. "You are very good at this, my dear," he purred, looking into her eyes. "It makes me wonder what else you are good at."

Blythe looked at him and pulled a face. _Maker's Breath, _she thought. _He's beautiful_. She took a deep breath and rejoined the others quickly, her heart racing and a deep line forming between her eyebrows. She removed her backpack and rummaged through it as she walked, finding Cullen's sash and touching it. _I'm sorry, Cullen_, she thought. _I haven't forgotten you, I promise._

o~~~~~~~~~o

After being safely ensconced in the top room of the Inn, Anders had slept reasonably well, but his concern for Cullen kept waking him during the night. Cullen had slept uninterrupted, however.

Anders woke again to bright light streaming through the window onto his face. He squinted and covered his eyes with his hand. He was startled at the sight of Cullen sitting on the end of his bed in his nightshirt, looking out through the window across the lake.

Anders got out of bed and sat on the edge, opposite Cullen, who didn't seem to know he was there. A lump came to Anders' throat as he looked at his friend in broad daylight. Cullen's skin was deathly pale, with a sallow tone; and dark circles surrounded his eyes, giving him a haunted look. Even his normally bright amber eyes looked pale and dull, as though the light had gone out of them.

"Morning Cullen," Anders ventured, to no response. "Nice to see a bit of daylight, isn't it?"

Silence. Anders sighed heavily and swallowed back tears.

"She's gone, isn't she?" Cullen whispered.

"What?" Anders exclaimed hoarsely, then cleared his throat.

"Blythe. She's dead, isn't she?" he said simply.

"What do you mean?" asked Anders, hoping the panic he felt wasn't evident in his voice.

"I heard you and your friend talking about Ostagar last night when you thought I was still asleep. The Wardens are all dead, aren't they?"

Anders finally broke down, unable to help himself. "I-I…I'm so sorry, Cullen!" he cried. "I never wanted you to find out like that! I was going to tell you when you were stronger…"

Cullen continued to stare out of the window through glazed eyes as Anders sobbed. The mage wiped his eyes, stood up and sat next to Cullen on the bed, putting his arm around the Templar's shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, Cullen…" Anders whispered, before collapsing into sobs on his shoulder. Cullen, snapped out of his stupor, turned to his friend. The sight of his usually happy-go-lucky friend in such a state brought out his protective side. He put his arm around Anders' waist and rested his head atop the mage's.

Cullen thought he couldn't cry any more, but as he pictured Blythe's face, and remembered the perfect, pure love he had experienced, which he would never know again, his face creased and tears streamed down his cheeks. He pulled Anders closer to him, and they embraced, finding comfort in each other, if only for a brief time.


	11. Love is in the air

**Anders and Cullen will return next chapter! Thank you all once again for your wonderful reviews! They really mean a lot to me.**

**Thank you again to my dear friend Jen for another top-notch Beta job! :D**

**O~~~~~~~~~O**

The ever-growing group of travellers made camp at the edge of a wood as night fell. After helping to prepare the encampment, Allis motioned for Alistair to follow him into the woods. Once they were out of sight, Allis stopped and turned to face Alistair.

"Alistair," he said contritely, "I owe you an apology."

"No, you don't," replied the Templar. "I know how much of a shock that news must have been to you. I…I had prepared myself for your reaction."

"It was a shock," Allis agreed, "but that was no excuse for the way I acted. You must have been dreading telling us, and I should have been more supportive. It's just that…" he sighed and fell silent.

"Tell me," Alistair pleaded softly.

"Well," Allis replied, rubbing the back of his neck, "I know we haven't known each other for very long, but when you told me that one day you might become King…"

Alistair interrupted. "I have no intention of ever taking the throne, let me say that once and for all," he said firmly.

"Alistair, I know you don't want to hear this, but one day you may have to," Allis said quietly. "If anything happens to Eamon…and Queen Anora has no heir. You are next in line to the throne, after her. In fact, you have a more legitimate claim to the throne than she does."

"That may be so," Alistair replied, "but Anora is a fine Queen. I have no intention of rocking the boat. I will _not _be King – ever. Now, what were you saying before?"

Allis sighed and took Alistair's hands in his. "Well," he muttered, looking at the forest floor, "like I said, we haven't known each other for long, but when you told me the news, I thought of the future. If and when you took the throne…well, there would be no place for me, would there? You'd be expected to marry a woman and produce an heir. Not to mention the fact I'm an elf, _and _a mage."

Alistair's mouth fell open. "I…I had no idea you felt like that, Allis," he whispered.

"Look," said Allis, straightening up and affecting a jovial expression, "I'm not some kind of obsessed weirdo. As I said, we've only been acquainted for a short while…it's just that…well, I really like you Alistair, and I hope that we may have some kind of future together."

Alistair's eyes twinkled as a shy grin came to his lips. "I feel the same, Allis," he said simply.

"Really?" Allis replied, as he looked up, rooted to the spot as their eyes met.

"Really," the Templar whispered, bringing his hands up to softly stroke Allis' face. He dropped to one knee, pulling Allis close. Allis sat on his knee and leaned down, running his fingers through Alistair's hair as he took his bottom lip in his mouth and gently tugged. Alistair groaned, wrapped his arms around Allis' waist and gently pulled the mage down to lie on the ground with him, where their height difference didn't matter.

Their lips met as their limbs became entangled. Alistair propped himself on one elbow, leaning over Allis, but taking care not to put his full weight onto the elf. He grasped Allis' face and hungrily probed his mouth with his tongue. Allis grabbed Alistair's hips and pulled the Templar onto him, taking his full weight, emitting a muffled cry as Alistair claimed his lips once more.

Allis soon felt Alistair's erection pressing against his belly, and reached down, stroking him through his leggings. Alistair pulled away, panting. "I, um…Allis…I don't know if I'm ready for that yet," he gulped.

"So," teased Allis. "You drag me into a secluded wood, throw me to the ground, kiss me like _that_, and now you tell me you're not ready?"

Alistair chuckled. "I didn't drag you anywhere!" He protested. "You were the one who…"

He stopped as Allis sat up and pushed him onto his back. "You don't have to be ready for anything, Alistair," Allis purred. "Just lie back, relax, and let me be ready for both of us."

"But I…" Alistair protested weakly, his words cut off by Allis' kiss. Alistair whimpered as Allis' hand delved into his leggings and under his smallclothes, finding his prize.

"I wasn't wrong when I called you big fella, was I?" Allis grinned, causing Alistair to laugh and blush, then close his eyes and furrow his brow as Allis rained kisses down his neck, while rhythmically stroking Alistair's length. Allis drew up to his ear and whispered "do you like that, my naughty little Templar?"

"Yes!" Alistair gasped, as he grabbed Allis' hair and pulled him down hard against his lips.

Allis began to squeeze as he stroked, and moved his hand closer to the sensitive head. Alistair's breathing became erratic and he felt a familiar warm sensation pervade his lower body. He had experienced the feeling many times before, when alone, but never like this. His whole body throbbed; his every nerve ending felt aflame, and his stomach lurched over and over again.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Alistair?" Allis mischievously whispered into his ear.

All that came out of his mouth was an incoherent cry as he thrust involuntarily against Allis' hand, who furiously grasped and pulled him into a frenzy. Alistair cried out with each breath, and, as Allis squeezed hard one last time, he unloaded himself into Allis' hand and threw his arms above his head, panting heavily and groaning.

Allis withdrew his hand and wiped it on the grass, nestled into the crook of Alistair's arm and laid his arm across the Templar's broad chest. After a few moments, Alistair sat up and leaned on his elbow again, looking down on Allis. "Let me…" he whispered, moving his hand down to lift Allis' robe.

"Oh, no," Allis teased, slapping his hand away. "You're not _ready _for that yet. That one was on me. You let me know when you're ready, big man."

Alistair watched, red-faced and open-mouthed, as Allis sprang to his feet and offered his hand. Alistair stood up and grinned down at him. "I'm ready now, Allis," he mumbled, advancing closer.

"I don't think so!" Allis chirped as he ran back to the camp.

"Hey, come back!" Alistair called, laughing.

Blythe watched with relief as Allis returned from the wood. She was making supper and had spent most of her time fending off Zevran's chat-up lines and double entendres. "Allis!" she called loudly. "Come and help me with supper!"

"Hang on!" he called over. "I just need to wash my hands first!"

She looked at him, confused; then, on spotting a crimson-faced Alistair emerge from the wood and duck into his tent, all became clear. She bent at the waist, creased up with laughter.

"Oh!" exclaimed Zevran. "What has tickled you, my dear Warden?"

"Oh, nothing," she sighed, wiping a tear from her eye. "Aren't you supposed to be chopping those carrots?"

Zevran put his knife down and sighed, a pained expression crossing his face. "These hands," he said, holding them up for effect, "were not made for such banal tasks as chopping vegetables!" he moved closer to her and whispered, "they were made for holding, stroking…_caressing_."

"Will you leave me alone?" she chuckled. Although Zevran had pestered her relentlessly since they'd met mere hours ago, she didn't feel irritated by him, and found him witty and charming. The rest of the group had given him a wide berth, and Sten sat next to the campfire glowering in their direction, watching for any sign of impropriety from the Antivan.

Allis finally sauntered over, his eyes shining. He grabbed Blythe's hands and leaned up to kiss her cheek. Blythe recoiled and drew her hands back. "You did wash your hands, didn't you!" she exclaimed.

"Of course I did! There was a lot of _dirt _to wash off!"

"Ohhhh…!" Blythe groaned, handing her knife to him. "Take over here for a minute. I need to speak to Morrigan."

"Give her my love!" Allis chirped and watched as she walked away.

O~O

Blythe approached Morrigan's firepit. "May I sit down, Morrigan?" she asked politely.

"'Tis a free country," Morrigan replied. "'Tis not for me to say where anyone may sit."

"Thank you," Blythe replied and sat down opposite Morrigan, crossing her legs. "I've wanted to say something to you, Morrigan, since we were in Lothering, but there hasn't been a chance."

"Oh?" said Morrigan cautiously, wondering if she was in for another tongue-lashing.

"I wanted to say thank you. For following Jowan and bringing him to our attention," Blythe replied.

"I did not seek thanks or favour," Morrigan replied haughtily.

"Well, you're getting it whether you want it or not," said Blythe with a grin. "Even though we all got off on the wrong foot, you looked out for the rest of us that day. Jowan is a very dangerous and cunning man. I know you didn't agree with us turning him over to the Templars, but you don't know what he did to me and others at the Tower."

This intrigued Morrigan. "Pray, tell," she asked.

Blythe proceeded to recount the tale of what happened at the Tower. Morrigan listened patiently and impassively, only interrupting when Blythe mentioned Cullen.

"A Templar? You _went _with a Templar?" she asked in disbelief.

"No, I didn't _go _with him, if you mean what I think you mean," Blythe replied. "But we were…close."

"It matters not what you care to name it!" Morrigan exclaimed. "These men seek to keep you in bondage because they believe you to be corrupt and evil! Ever they watch you for the merest hint of you straying outside _their _rules governing _your_ life! And, should you stray, they will slay you without a moment's hesitation or regret!" Morrigan shook her head. "How could you even _think_…"

"It's not as black and white as you think, Morrigan," Blythe interrupted. "You weren't brought up in the Tower. I see things differently than you. Some mages _are _dangerous, and I believe the Templars _are _needed. I expect you have a very different view of Templars than I, as you and your mother have probably been hunted by them your entire lives. Some of them are truly decent people."

Morrigan scoffed. "You are a naïve fool, blinded by your infatuation with this man you mention. You are correct in your assessment that Mother and I were constantly hunted by the Templars; however, very few of them had the wit to find us, and those who did were slain. Does that offend you?"

"Not really," shrugged Blythe. "No doubt I would have done the same in your position."

Morrigan regarded Blythe cautiously, really not knowing what to make of her.

"Your upbringing is just as strange to me, Morrigan," Blythe continued. "Living out in the Wilds, with only your Mother for company – although I'm sure you saw others from time to time – seems very odd to me. I'm used to being surrounded by others at all times. I'm used to routine and structure. Even now, I sometimes wake up and think I'm going to be late for my lessons! I'm used to constantly having to mind what I say and do. This new life is still very strange to me.

You and I are very different, Morrigan, and there are many things we will disagree on, and I agree with Allis in that I think you're hiding something from us. However, I think there's more to you than meets the eye, and on that day in Lothering you acted as one of us. I just wanted to thank you, and to tell you that you are always welcome to join us at the fire for supper. That's all I wanted to say."

Blythe stood up and walked away, watched curiously by Morrigan.

O~O

Allis waited until Blythe had walked over to Morrigan, then turned to Zevran. "Let's get a few things straight, Zevran," he said firmly.

Zevran raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Very well! I love a good dressing down, especially from a handsome man such as yourself!"

Allis gave him an icy glare. "You needn't bother using your lines on me. And you needn't use them on Blythe, either," he said coldly.

"Oh, why is that?" asked Zevran. "Is she yours?"

Allis folded his arms. "No, she's not 'mine'", he stated flatly. "She doesn't belong to anybody. But she _is_ a good friend of mine, and frankly, you're not good enough for her. So I'm telling you now to back off gracefully. There won't be any trouble that way."

"I see," Zevran replied caustically. "So, the lady is not allowed to have thoughts of her own, then? And who are you to decide who is good enough for her? Her father?"

"I have no intention of explaining myself to you," he said quietly. "She's not for you. You would do well to remember that." He glared at Zevran then walked away.

Zevran watched him coolly as he departed. _Not for me? _He thought. _We shall see about that. I simply must have her!_

O~~~~~~~~~O

Leliana and Morrigan took first watch that night, joined by Reaper. Although a fearsome killer in battle, Reaper was a hopeless watchdog, and usually fell asleep in front of the fire, as he had done tonight.

All three failed to notice the large figure that crept silently along the row of tents, occasionally ducking into the woods for cover where two tents were spaced far apart.

The intruder slowly made his way toward the group leader's tent, squatting behind a tree as he waited for the two ladies' attention to be turned away from his location. He saw his chance and made a break for it, ducking down again as he reached his destination. He caught his breath and approached the tent, quietly pulling back the tent flap and entering.

"Who's that?" whispered Allis.

"It's me," said the intruder as he slid under the covers. "You can't run away this time, my naughty little mage."

O~~~~~~~~~O

The night passed without incident, and the group continued on their journey to Redcliffe. Allis could sense Alistair's growing tension as they drew nearer. "Are you alright, Alistair?" he asked gently, squeezing his hand.

Alistair sighed and stopped, waiting for the others to walk a little distance away. "I have mixed memories of Redcliffe," he answered. "Some good, some…not so good…"

"What do you mean?" asked Allis. "I thought Arl Eamon raised you? You said he was a good man?"

"He was," sighed Alistair. "His wife was a different story, though. I can't say I'm looking forward to seeing her again. She despised me."

"_Despised_ you?" Allis asked, feeling himself getting angry. "Whatever for?"

"Well," said Alistair quietly. "My mother was a serving girl at Redcliffe castle. Apparently Maric had a fondness for elves…"

"Your Mother was an elf?" Allis interrupted.

"Yes," Alistair grinned. "Well, the King was staying at the castle and took a fancy to her. You can guess the rest. A few months later, she was with child, and Eamon, who knew of Maric's reputation with the ladies, put two and two together. He made sure my Mother was well looked after. When she died during my birth, Eamon took me in and raised me as his own. There were rumours that I was Eamon's bastard, but he didn't care. Then he met Isolde and fell in love with her. They married, and unfortunately for me, shebelieved the rumours and resented my presence. She made things very difficult for me, and eventually I was packed off to the Chantry at the age of 10. Eamon came to visit, but I blamed him for sending me away and eventually he stopped coming. I have no doubt that was her doing, as well."

"That's awful!" Allis cried. "I'm so sorry, Alistair," he said softly, stroking his face. Allis knew that Alistair had a vulnerable side, and could now see why. He swallowed down the anger that was building inside him. _I'll never let anyone hurt you again, Alistair. I swear it, _he resolved.

They all stopped to have a drink and a snack as they approached Redcliffe Village. Allis had been so preoccupied with Alistair he'd failed to notice that Zevran had resumed his flirting with Blythe, ignoring his warning.

Blythe stood laughing as Zev and Leliana played with her hair and braided it. Zev's arm occasionally slipped down to Blythe's waist and lingered there.

Sten walked over towards Al and Al – as Blythe called them – and scowled. "I do not approve of the assassin's familiar behaviour toward the mage," he stated bluntly.

"Neither do I, Sten," Allis replied.

"It's not even as if he liked her from the start," Alistair added. "He's propositioned everybody here – with the exception of Reaper – and he's only stuck to Blythe because she's too polite to tell him to piss off."

"He did not proposition _me_," said Sten fiercely. "He would not have lived to see the dawn, had he done so."

"Well I don't like it," Allis muttered. "For all we know this could be part of his plan. Get close to the Wardens, then bam! A dagger in the back. Well, he's not getting close to me."

"Nor I," Alistair concurred.

"And Blythe is vulnerable at the moment," Allis added. "She hasn't gotten over Cullen yet. I still hear her cry sometimes when she thinks no one is around. I'm not going to let that smooth-talking bastard worm his way into her affections. I've already warned him off, but he's obviously not taking a blind bit of notice."

"He will take notice of me," Sten stated threateningly. "I shall speak with him when the time is right."

"That could certainly work!" chirped Alistair, looking up at Sten, who stood nearly 7 feet tall.

"Alright, Sten," said Allis quietly. "But I don't want Blythe to know about our scheming. I don't think she'd take too kindly to it."

"As you wish," Sten replied as he walked away.

Having taken refreshments, and after a brief rest, they entered the village of Redcliffe, which sat in a small valley on the southern shore of Lake Calenhad. It was a clear day, and from their high vantage point, the Circle Tower could just about be seen on the northern shore of the lake.

Allis and Blythe stood looking across at the Tower, with Blythe's gaze lingering for a little longer. _They're so near_, she thought sadly. Allis took her hand and led her to the edge of a precipice overlooking the Village. They looked down upon Redcliffe and smiled. "It's beautiful!" Blythe said with emotion in her voice.

"'Tis but a village like any other," stated Morrigan.

"You don't understand, Morrigan," Allis replied. "Blythe and I spent most of our lives in the Tower. I get the same feeling here as I did at Ostagar – it's so open wide, and the air is so clear – it makes us feel…free."

Blythe nodded in agreement as they took in their surroundings and breathed deeply. Morrigan raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Someone's trying to attract our attention," said Alistair, pointing at a lone man stood on a bridge not far away.

The two mages gathered themselves and joined the others as they approached the man, who was now waving to them frantically.

**A little wink to Shakespira for coining 'Al & Al' ;)**


	12. The road to recovery

**Thank you so much to my angelic twin, researcher and Beta Reader Jen! And thanks to MoShu for the inspiration! :D**

O~~~~~~~~O

Cullen and Anders' shared moment of grief had proved to be a cathartic experience for them both. Cullen, although still withdrawn and nervous, had begun to talk a little, if only to comfort Anders. The darkness that had pervaded Cullen's mind had started to lift, and, although he now felt a keen and raw sadness, he was glad in a way to feel anything at all.

Anders could see that the worst of Cullen's withdrawal symptoms had passed, and, having been forced to stay strong for both he and Cullen over the past week , he suddenly felt very weary and depressed. Cullen could see his friend's fatigue and resolved to help Anders through this, as Anders had done for him.

Anders had been reluctant to talk about Blythe for fear of upsetting Cullen, and so was surprised when Cullen broached the subject himself.

"Did I ever tell you about the first time I met Blythe?" he said to Anders, who shook his head.

"It was my first day at the Tower. Gregoir was giving me a tour," Cullen said wistfully as he looked out of the window. "We entered the library – her favourite haunt – and he introduced me to a few people. I looked around, and from a desk in the corner, I saw this huge pair of blue eyes staring at me." Cullen smiled at the memory. "All I noticed were her eyes. I kept hoping that Gregoir would walk over in her direction, but he didn't."

"I bet he didn't," Anders nodded with a wry grin. "They hated each other."

Cullen grinned a little. "Yes, and as we were leaving, we heard a voice pipe up. 'Aren't you going to introduce us, Gregoir?' she said. I heard Gregoir groan," Cullen was chuckling by now. "He reluctantly turned around and introduced us. He said that she was one of the best healers in the Tower, and I could tell it was killing him to say it.

She held her hand out to me. I removed a gauntlet and shook her hand. She said, 'well, a polite Templar, Gregoir. Who would have thought it? Perhaps there is hope, even for _you_.'"

"I bet Gregoir didn't like that!" said Anders, smiling.

"No," Cullen replied, shaking his head. "He blustered out of the library. I turned back as we were leaving and she winked at me." Cullen smiled sadly and fell silent.

"I remember Blythe coming to tell me there was a new Templar," said Anders. "A _nice_ one, she said. There were so few friendly Templars it was quite a novelty for us apprentices."

Anders laughed to himself as he recalled a happy memory. "Do you remember that day when you were on duty in the dining hall, and Blythe had presented me with a big tablespoon to eat my food with? Because I was so greedy?"

"Yes!" Cullen remembered, his face turning red as he giggled. "You used it to launch a lump of mashed potatoes onto Ser Bran's back. He looked around and you, and everyone at your table, had resumed eating as though nothing had happened. He never did find out who did it."

"We looked over towards you," said Anders. "Your face turned red and you had to turn your back on us so nobody could see you were laughing. That's when we knew you were alright."

Cullen smiled and nodded his head, before sighing deeply as he continued to look out of the window. "I think I'd like to leave here, Anders, when you think we're ready," he said quietly as he looked at the Tower. "Looking at that place constantly reminds me of…her."

"Alright," agreed Anders as he stood up and walked over to the window. "But I'd like us to stay here for one more night, to get a decent sleep in a bed. The journey ahead will be tough. We won't get much sleep, as one of us will always have to keep watch at night, and I won't be able to use magic this close to the Tower. We'll be living a very basic existence, for a while."

"I can cope with that," Cullen replied, noticing how pale and tired Anders looked as he stepped near to the window.

Cullen stood up. "Anders?" he said quietly. "I want to thank you for everything you've done. I can see it's taken quite a toll on you."

"On both of us, friend," Anders replied, noticing Cullen's trembling hands and pallor. "No need to thank me. I'm glad we could get you off that crap. But you realise that you're going to feel terrible for a while, don't you?"

"I do," nodded Cullen. "I think I'll feel better, though, when we can walk and move around. I feel so cooped up in here. I miss going for a swim in the morning, and doing my exercises."

"Of course!" cried Anders. "You Templars do exercises each day, don't you?"

"Yes," Cullen replied. "A healthy body equals a sound mind, or so they say. I miss going for a run most of all. I used to do 10 laps of the Tower each evening before supper."

"What else do you do?" Anders asked, folding his arms. "You don't get a physique like that from running. You look like you're carved out of granite!"

Cullen shrugged and blushed a little. "Well, I used to do 100 sit-ups twice a day, followed by as many press-ups as I could manage. Then I'd go for a run. Good for working off frustration, you know?"

"Well," Anders laughed, "I know what I'd rather do to work off frustration!"

"Not _that _kind of frustration!" Cullen protested, shaking his head.

"Sure. Whatever you say," Anders replied dryly, before leaning out of the window to attract Dav's attention.

O~~~~~~~~~O

After speaking with Dav, Anders and Cullen decided to take advantage of the absence of Templars around Lake Calenhad and leave that night. They slept during the day while Dav prepared some armour and backpacks for them.

They left the Inn wearing old and battered armour. Dav could have acquired newer armour, but they would be less conspicuous this way. Cullen wore steel splintmail with a full helm. Anders was less than pleased with his vestments – ornate leather armour.

"Whichever way you look at it, Dav, it's a skirt. And a short one at that," he whined. "I look ridiculous!"

"Well, that was all I could get hold of," Dav replied, trying not to laugh. "And it was too small for Cullen. You can either wear that or a robe. It's up to you. Or," he added, "you can try your luck with the Templar uniform you came here with."

Anders shot a sour glance at Dav before pulling on his helm. "Have you heard any more about the goings on at the Tower?" he asked.

"It's gone very quiet," Dav replied. "Carroll is still at the jetty, and he still won't tell me what's going on. Nobody has entered or left that Tower for two days, now, except for a messenger I spoke to, who told me he was taking an urgent message to Denerim."

"Denerim?" Cullen mumbled.

"Yes, why, what's wrong?" asked Dav.

"Well…I could be wrong, but in times of great crisis at the Tower, the Templars can invoke the Right of Annulment," Cullen said quietly. "They would need permission from the Grand Cleric in Denerim for that."

Anders and Dav looked at one another. "You mean they can neutralise all the mages in the Tower?" Anders asked. Cullen nodded gravely.

"Lucky you got out when you did, then," muttered Dav. "You'd best get going. As heartless as it sounds, Anders, I don't think you've ever had a better chance of a successful escape."

Anders looked at the Tower sadly. "I know," he replied. "I do hope that Mr. Wiggums is alright, though."

The two men embraced Dav and thanked him for his help. "You know how you can repay me, Anders," he said, smiling, "by making sure I never see you again."

"I'll do my best, Dav!" Anders called as they left Lake Calenhad and set off for Lothering.

O~~~~~~~~~O

Redcliffe

Alistair spoke to the man on the bridge - who introduced himself as Tomas - as the others caught up to him. "Something's wrong," said Alistair to the others. "Tomas here says that each night, undead creatures appear from the Castle and attack the village!"

"We cannot enter the Castle," added Tomas. "We fear that everyone inside is dead."

"But what about Arl Eamon?" asked Alistair with a hitch in his voice.

Tomas shook his head. "He is in the castle, and gravely ill. That is all I know, I'm sorry. Perhaps Bann Teagan will know more. I can take you to him if you'd like."

"Teagan?" asked Alistair, brightening a little. "Eamon's brother? He's here?"

"Yes, Ser," replied Tomas. "I will take you to him. Please, follow me."

o~o

As they followed Tomas into the Chantry, they were reminded for a moment of Lothering. Injured and frightened people sat or lay on the floor; others paced back and forth, sick with worry over their fate.

Blythe excused herself from her companions and approached the Revered Mother to see if she could render assistance to the injured. The Revered Mother was very grateful and put her to work immediately. Blythe called Allis over to assist as Alistair and the others spoke to Teagan.

Alistair brought Teagan over to meet the two mages when they had finished talking.

"Teagan, these are two very good friends of mine, and fellow Wardens," said Alistair. "Allis Surana, Blythe Amell, may I introduce Teagan Guerrin, Bann of Rainesfere."

"A pleasure to meet you both," said Teagan graciously as he shook their hands. "I am most grateful for what you have done here. I fear, however, that it will not be enough." He shook his head sadly. "Tonight's assault may finish us all. Each night the creatures come in greater numbers, and we barely survived last night's onslaught."

"Take heart, Bann Teagan," Blythe said softly, placing her hand on his arm. "We will help, for what it's worth, won't we?" she said, looking at Allis and Alistair.

"Of course!" they replied in unison.

"Oh, thank you, my lady!" replied Teagan. "I cannot tell you how much this means to me."

"Tell us what needs to be done, My Lord," said Allis.

"Well," Teagan replied, "first, introduce yourselves to Murdock, the Mayor. He is in charge of the Redcliffe Militia. You'll find him outside. You'll probably hear him before you see him," he laughed. "Then speak to Ser Perth, who commands the Redcliffe Knights. He will be found by the Windmill. He's watching the Castle for any signs of movement."

"The windmill?" Blythe groaned. "You mean we have to walk all the way up that hill again?"

Teagan threw his head back and laughed. "I apologise unreservedly, my lady," he said, bowing low. "Be thankful you do not live here. Our legs are nearly worn down to the bone."

"Well," Blythe said brightly, "if ever your legs are sore, come to me. I had the best _rejuvenate _spell in the Circle Tower, you know."

"Of that I have no doubt, my lady," Teagan replied with a twinkle in his eye. "If only we had met under better circumstances, perhaps we would have had more time to talk."

Allis glanced at Alistair and grinned.

"Well," Blythe said, smiling sweetly, "perhaps we could talk while you escort me up the hill?"

"I would be honoured to, my lady," Teagan grinned, crooking his arm.

"Please, call me Blythe," she replied, taking his arm and exiting the Chantry with Teagan, leaving behind a grinning Alistair and Allis, and a heavily frowning Zevran.

O~~~~~~~~~O

Cullen and Anders cut across the Bannorn towards Lothering, avoiding the main roads. From previous experience, Anders estimated it would take them approximately two days to reach their destination. They had walked all night, and as the sun began to rise, they made a rough camp in a thicket of trees, from where they could watch the plains they had travelled across during the night.

Anders removed his boots and rubbed his aching feet. "You know, Cullen," he said, "we haven't come across a soul since we left the Inn. I think it might be alright to use a spell."

"I agree, it should be safe now," replied Cullen. "What did you have in mind?"

Anders touched his feet with his hands and groaned as a blue glow surrounded them. "Oh, that felt good!" he cried as he wiggled his toes. "Shall I do yours?"

"Yes please," Cullen replied, removing his boots. "My feet are killing me!"

Anders leaned over and _rejuvenated _Cullen's sore feet. "That's better," Cullen said. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome, my dear fellow," Anders replied before falling silent for a while and looking into the distance. "You know, I was thinking…" he began, then sighed heavily. "…About Allis Surana. He was a Warden, too. Such a shame."

"I'm afraid I didn't really know him that well," Cullen replied.

"He was…a friend," Anders said cautiously. "Well, we had a bit of a _thing_."

"A thing?" Cullen asked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Anders looked at Cullen and grimaced. "Well, we were…_close_ friends. Once."

"Did you fall out, then?" Cullen asked innocently.

Anders sighed dramatically. "Not exactly, Cullen. Alright, he and I had an, um…_encounter_. In one of the stockrooms. The very one you took me to, in fact."

Cullen inhaled some of tea he'd been drinking and started coughing violently. Anders slapped his back. "Sorry!" Anders laughed. "I thought you knew about me."

"I knew you had an eye for the ladies, Anders," Cullen replied, trying his best to look nonchalant but failing, "but…the _men_ too?"

"Well, I appreciate men _and_ women," Anders shrugged. "Mostly women, though. If it came down to a choice, it would be women every time. But…I do find certain men very attractive."

Cullen's eyes grew wide. "You've seen me naked!" he cried in horror. "And you complimented my physique!"

Anders laughed out loud. "Have no fear, O mighty Templar! If I were attracted to you, you'd have known about it long before now. Besides, you're a friend. A proper friend, I mean. And you're not really my type. I have a bit of a thing for elves, you see. You're quite safe!"

"I see…" said Cullen, squirming. "So, Allis was…?"

"Oh, Allis was only for the men," Anders replied. "Human men, in particular. Which is probably why you didn't know him that well. He was _always_ in the storeroom. He was a bit of a lad, back in the day. He settled down after his Harrowing, though. Apparently that fellow from the Grey Wardens had approached him on a previous visit about joining them, when Allis was an apprentice, but Gregoir would never have let an apprentice out of the Tower. So, after his Harrowing, Allis knuckled down. He really wanted to be a Warden." Anders' face fell. "Well, he got his wish, I suppose."

"I'm sorry, Anders." Cullen said quietly.

"Oh well," Anders sighed. "Moping isn't going to change anything, is it? Try and get some sleep, Cullen. I'll keep an eye out."

Realising that Anders wanted some space, Cullen agreed and settled down on his bedroll. "Would you put me to sleep, please Anders?" he asked. "Whenever I close my eyes, I…"

"I know," Anders replied, touching Cullen's arm as he cast the spell. "Sleep well."


	13. Dread and hope

**Thank you so much to Jen, Shakespira, Nithu, CCBug, voltagelisa and cousland1982 for reviewing regularly and inspiring me to keep writing!**

**To my almost-angelic twin Jen, you had your work cut out on this one! Thank you for your hard work! :-***

**O~~~~~~~~O **

The village of Redcliffe was as ready as it would ever be for the coming night's attack. The Wardens and their companions had been of immense help in several ways. They had procured morale-boosting holy pendants for the Redcliffe Knights, and they had persuaded the grief-stricken blacksmith to make repairs to the Militia's arms and weapons, in return for which they had promised to search the castle for his missing daughter. They'd found a lost child, and had even persuaded several townsfolk to fight with the Militia, either through persuasion, courtesy of Zevran, threats from Sten or cold hard coin when the other two options had failed.

Bann Teagan had wanted to fight, but Alistair persuaded him to remain at the Chantry, as Redcliffe could not afford to lose him should Eamon not survive. Alistair also did not relish the prospect of Isolde ruling over Redcliffe should anything happen to both Guerrin men.

Allis had put down a minor rebellion amongst their group, when Morrigan and Sten made it clear that it was pointless to fight a hopeless battle, when they should be invoking the Grey Warden treaties and building an army. Allis had calmly told them that they were free to do as they wished, and could go and find the Archdemon on their own if they liked, but the rest of the group _would _be staying to defend Redcliffe. Morrigan and Sten uttered a few choice words in response, but ultimately agreed to stay with the rest of the group.

They all stood now at the foot of the slope leading to Redcliffe Castle, waiting for sundown. Allis, Blythe and Morrigan were the only mages in attendance. Ser Perth, realising their value, had instructed them to stay well back from the fighting, and to cast spells from a distance. He further assigned one of his men to each mage to protect them during the battle. Alistair, Sten and Reaper stood with the Knights and some of the Militia, closer to the castle's entrance. Zevran and Leliana, along with the other archers, had found positions above ground, from where they could attack in relative safety.

The rest of the Militia was stationed outside the Chantry, where most of the townsfolk were sheltering, in order to deal with any stragglers from the Castle. The mages were positioned near the top of the hill leading down to the village, so that they would be the first to reach the Chantry and attack from a distance, should it become necessary.

The tension became palpable as the sun began to set, and a heavy silence hung in the air, only broken by occasional coughing or shuffling. Blythe cast Flame Weapons on the melee fighters, and she and the other two mages cast Glyphs of Paralysis at the bottom of the slope.

"There!" cried Ser Perth, pointing to the top of the hill. "Here they come!"

The first few creatures emerged, skeletal beings, all wearing cumbersome armour. Seeing how clumsily they moved gave Allis an idea. He cast a coating of frost along the slope, causing the creatures to lose their footing and slide down the hill, hitting the Glyphs and becoming frozen in place. The melee fighters laughed and set to work immediately as the archers and mages joined in with arrows and bolts. The mages moved around the battleground, taking care not to hit any of their allies with spells.

More creatures poured forth from the Castle entrance, and the mages renewed their spells, but soon there were so many undead that they broke through the Glyphs. The warriors and melee fighters charged forward and engaged them. Morrigan and Allis fell back to the crest of the hill leading to the village and renewed their Glyphs, and Blythe cast a Glyph of Warding around the melee fighters to boost their attack and defence.

Soon the numbers of undead lessened and, with the help of Alistair and Sten, Blythe moved any injured fighters to one side where she began healing them. A cheer rose up from the Redcliffe soldiers as only stragglers now appeared at the top of the hill.

"We are victorious!" cried one of the Redcliffe Knights.

"Wait…!" shouted Allis as he looked down the hill leading to the Village. A lone Knight struggled to run up the hill towards them.

"The monsters are attacking from the lake!" the Knight cried breathlessly. "We need help!"

"Knights! Stay here and guard the path!" Allis commanded.

"Yes, Warden!" cried Ser Perth as he rallied his men.

The three mages were closest and headed the charge down the hill, with Reaper soon overtaking them. They held position halfway down, covering the melee fighters as they joined the fray. Allis and Morrigan could only use projectile spells for fear of striking their allies.

"Stay close together!" Blythe yelled at Alistair, Sten and Reaper as they passed. "I'll protect you!"

Zevran, Leliana and the Redcliffe archers reached them and began firing off arrows and bolts. When Sten, Alistair and Reaper reached the bottom, Blythe cast a Glyph of Warding around them and Heroic Defence on all three.

"Stay back, Reaper!" yelled Allis, as the Mabari kept leaving the confines of the Glyph to attack. Hearing his master's voice, he did as instructed and stayed close to Alistair and Sten.

It took all of Blythe's concentration to see who needed healing, rejuvenating or regenerating. She cast Mass Rejuvenate on the mages and archers then drank a Lyrium Potion. As she did so, her Glyph of Warding wore off and her three allies on the ground were overwhelmed by undead. She quickly cast a Glyph of Repulsion, which threw several undead backwards to the ground. Alistair fell back with them. She watched for a moment, holding her breath. He wasn't moving. Then his arm came up to his throat, which was gushing with blood.

"Alistair!" she cried as she ran down the hill.

"Blythe! Come ba…" Allis began, then saw why she was running.

"Stay where you are, Allis!" she yelled. "I'll take care of him! Take over the Regeneration for me!"

Sten saw her coming and cleared a path for her with almighty swings of his sword. He dragged Alistair, using one arm, to the doors of the Chantry before rejoining the fight. A thick trail of blood marked Alistair's path. Reaper stood before the two of them and fiercely defended them.

"Move your hand, Alistair, just a bit," she said softly. He complied and a torrent of blood flowed from his neck.

"Shit!" Blythe muttered, quickly replacing his hand on the wound. "Press down as firmly as you can, Alistair!" she instructed, placing her hands over his.

"Got it," he whispered, making a horrible gurgling sound as he spoke.

Blythe concentrated with all her might, willing her strongest Heal spell into force. She had no doubt she could heal the wound, but was gravely concerned about the amount of blood he had lost.

Allis had long since lost concentration on the fight and watched from halfway up the hill as a green glow enveloped Alistair and Blythe, then he noticed the trail of blood leading to their location. He saw Blythe sit back on her heels and put her hands to her face. Alistair was not moving.

"Bastards…" he whispered, his breathing rapid and irregular. He stepped forward and held his staff aloft. "Fall back!" he yelled at the top of his voice. His allies on the ground did as he commanded and stepped back towards the Chantry. Allis raised his arms and closed his eyes. A grey, swirling cloud appeared directly above the position of the undead horde. A bitterly cold wind swept through the valley and around the undead, severely slowing their movements. As huge chunks of ice rained from the sky onto the skeletons, Allis collapsed to the ground, his mana depleted.

Morrigan ran to him and put a Lyrium Potion to his lips. "Foolish boy!" she remonstrated. "Drink!"

The archers ran down the hill to support the Militia, as all of the undead creatures stood frozen solid. They charged through the alleyways of Redcliffe, picking off the rest of the horde as they approached from Lake Calenhad.

Morrigan and Allis ran down the hill, Morrigan running ahead to assist the archers. The Militia, Sten and Reaper, having dealt with the frozen creatures, joined her. Allis walked in a daze towards Blythe and Alistair, who lay motionless on the ground. Blythe had removed the top half of her robes to cover him, and shivered in her petticoat. Allis removed the top half of his robes and offered it to Blythe, who promptly placed it over Alistair.

"He's alive, but barely," she said quietly, shaking her head. "I can't do any more for him. He's lost a lot of blood. Some bastard stabbed him in the neck. We need to get him inside."

Allis ran over and banged on the Chantry doors. "Open up!" he cried. "It's Allis Surana!"

He heard several bolts and locks being undone. After what seemed like an eternity, the doors slowly opened. Bann Teagan ran out and assisted Allis to carry Alistair inside. They placed him on a cot and stood guard by the doors as Blythe made Alistair comfortable and placed a _Lifeward _on him.

Very soon, the Redcliffe Militia and the Warden's companions returned. Blythe took the injured to one side as they spilled into the Chantry. Allis offered to help, but she told him she could manage and he should go and sit with Alistair. Morrigan, who had minimal healing skills, tended to the less seriously injured, with Leliana's assistance.

Allis knelt down besides Alistair's cot and put his hands to his mouth. Alistair was now unconscious and his skin, normally a golden hue, was ashen, his lips blue. With tears springing to his eyes, Allis climbed onto the cot alongside Alistair, not caring what anyone thought, and wrapped his arms around him, rubbing Alistair's arms in an attempt to keep him warm.

"Come on, big man," he whispered, kissing Alistair's icy cold cheek, "I can't do this without you." Leliana brought some blankets over and covered them both up, giving Allis' shoulder a squeeze before walking away.

Bann Teagan instructed some of his people to take over from Morrigan and Blythe as soon as the seriously injured were tended to, as they both appeared exhausted. He walked over to Allis and Alistair and his face fell as he noted the Templar's condition.

"Is there anything I can do to assist, Warden Surana?" he asked gravely.

"No, My Lord, but thank you," Allis replied. "It's in the Maker's hands, now."

O~~~~~~~~~O

Cullen and Anders made excellent progress on their journey to Lothering. They spent their time on the road productively, with Cullen teaching Anders a few basic sword fighting techniques. Anders had left his staff behind at the inn, in order to detract attention from the fact he was a mage, and carried an old sword and dagger, which he had no idea how to use effectively.

Although Cullen fought with a two-handed sword, and therefore couldn't teach Anders any involved techniques, he taught him some defensive stances and strikes. Cullen surmised that Anders would be well suited to fighting with two daggers, and they resolved to acquire a second dagger as soon as they could.

They arrived at Lothering at teatime on the second day. They froze for a second as they spotted a Templar standing close to the village's entrance.

"Can he sense I have magic?" Anders whispered to Cullen, checking that his helm was sufficiently concealing his face.

"Only if you use it, Anders," Cullen replied. "Remove your Rock Armour."

"Good thinking," Anders grinned as he closed his eyes and dissolved the spell.

They walked forward as nonchalantly as possible, although they were both sweating under their armour.

"You there!" called the Templar. They continued to walk forward, but their hearts raced.

"If you're looking for safe shelter, you'll find none here. Lothering's lost," the Templar warned.

"Lost?" asked Cullen. "What do you mean?"

"Look around you," the Templar replied with a sweep of his arm. "The place is full to bursting with refugees, all fleeing the darkspawn. Within a day or two, the darkspawn will be _here_. I'd advise you to move on, if you know what's best for you."

"Thank you for the warning," said Cullen.

"Maker watch over your path," the Templar replied, crossing his arms and bowing.

"The same to you," Cullen replied, jumping as Anders kicked the back of his leg.

"What was that for?" Cullen asked as they walked away.

"You were about to bow to him like a Templar," Anders whispered.

"Oh, Maker…I was, wasn't I?" Cullen whispered back. "I'll have to watch that."

Anders folded his arms, looking towards the Chantry. "We'll both have to watch ourselves," he muttered as another Templar escorted some injured people inside. "I'm fighting the urge to go and heal those people over there. Blast it!" he muttered in frustration.

"How about you treat me to that ale you promised me, Anders?" Cullen asked, diverting his attention toward the tavern.

"Yes, alright," Anders agreed. "I can't believe you've never tasted ale before. You'll love it!" he promised.

They entered the tavern, which was heaving with people, most of whom were not drinking. They approached the proprietor at the bar.

"Sorry, lads," he said, holding his hands up, "we don't have no more room for no one. Unless you're drinking, I'll have to ask you to move on."

"Two bitters, please," asked Anders.

"Ah!" the man exclaimed happily. "Certainly, lads. I'll even give you the stuff without sawdust in it. Here you go," he said as he placed two frothing mugs on the counter. "4 silver, please."

Anders paid him from the small amount of money Dav had provided them.

"Know you of any well-paid work in Lothering?" Anders asked.

"Well, there was the Chanter's Board, but them Wardens took all the jobs on that," he replied.

"Wardens?" asked Cullen, he and Anders standing bolt upright. "What do you mean, Wardens?"

"Now, hang about!" the proprietor exclaimed. "I don't want no trouble in here! The last time there were soldiers looking for them, the Wardens nearly destroyed this place!"

"We're not here to cause trouble, friend," Anders replied.

"But _you're _looking for them Wardens, too!" he replied angrily. "Well, they've gone, I tell ya! I don't want no more fighting in here!"

"Please," said Cullen softly, "we weren't looking for them in particular, we just knew a couple of Wardens. We'd heard that they'd all been…killed at Ostagar."

The proprietor eyed them suspiciously. "Why haven't you two removed your helms?" he asked. "What are you hiding?"

Anders looked around the room. He couldn't see any Templars or guards. "Keep this to yourself," he whispered, "but _we're _Wardens, too. We thought we were the only survivors, but apparently there are others. We'd just like to know who they were, that's all."

The proprietor took a deep breath and relented. "You're not going to start a fight in here, then?" he asked.

"No! Why would we?" Anders asked, confused.

"Well," the man whispered, beckoning them closer. "A few days ago, two Wardens showed up in here. Mages, they were…"

Anders and Cullen shot glances at one another.

"…some of Loghain's men were in here, waiting for them," he continued.

"Loghain?" said Cullen. "You mean Loghain Mac Tir, of River Dane?"

"That's the one," he replied. "Loghain put a bounty on all Grey Wardens. Says they were responsible for the King's death, he did."

"What?" Anders cried in horror. "That's ridiculous!"

"What happened in here?" asked Cullen.

"Huh!" snorted the proprietor. "Well, the Wardens set the bloody place on fire, that's what happened! Then they threw a few Sovereigns on the counter, and pissed off! Bah! They let the soldiers go, though. I was thankful for that, I suppose. No corpses to clean up…"

"You said they were mages," Cullen interrupted. "Can you describe them?"

"Yeah," the proprietor replied. "There was an elf, with brown hair, wearing a red robe, and a lady, very nice she was too. Brown, wavy hair, and the biggest blue eyes you ever saw! I wouldn't have minded having a go on that, I tell you! Know what I mean, lads? Heh heh."

Anders quickly grabbed Cullen's arm as the Templar reached for his sword. "Is there anything else you can tell us?" he asked charmingly.

"Well, I overheard them say they was from the Circle of Magi," said the proprietor, "and they'd only come from there a few days earlier."

Cullen's hands went to his helm as he leaned heavily against the bar.

"'Ere, is your friend alright?" the proprietor asked.

Anders slapped Cullen's back and grinned at the man with moist eyes. "He'll be fine!" he replied.

"There was another Warden, too," said the proprietor helpfully. "A big bloke in splintmail armour." He leaned down and whispered, "Saw him and that elf kissing outside, I did. Disgusting!" he snorted, folding his arms.

"Good old Allis!" Anders laughed. "He didn't waste any time!"

"Did they say where they went?" Cullen asked, his voice thick with emotion.

"Aye, they did. Heading for Redcliffe, they was. Left a couple of days ago."

"Redcliffe?" Anders repeated. "Well, my friend," he said to Cullen. "I think we know where we'll be heading to next, don't we?"

Cullen nodded silently, reaching inside his helm to wipe away his tears.


	14. Regret and longing

**Thank you so much to my friend and angelic twin Jen for such a speedy edit! I would be lost without you!**

**And thanks to everyone for their reviews! They really do inspire me! :D**

O~~~~~~~~O

Silence descended on the Redcliffe Chantry as the hour grew late. Satisfied that their village had been made safe for one more night, Redcliffe's residents and defenders fell asleep one by one. Only a few remained awake; Bann Teagan and the Revered Mother among them. They were making arrangements for the undead corpses to be burned and for their own dead to be cremated properly. Sadly, Murdock, the village Mayor, had been lost, and at least 6 other villagers were unaccounted for.

Blythe, too, remained awake, as she kept a constant vigil over Alistair. Zevran had very kindly stayed up with her to keep her spirits high, although he'd occasionally succumbed to short naps where he sat on the floor.

Blythe yawned, stretched, and looked down upon Alistair and Allis as they slept. A large, glowing Glyph surrounded them, and Blythe had to concentrate to keep it going. Even as she stood, she felt sleep creeping up on her. She closed her eyes and balled her fists as she _Rejuvenated _herself for the third time since entering the Chantry. Zevran had nodded off again, and Blythe ignored his instruction for her to wake him if he fell asleep.

"My lady…"

Blythe spun around, startled.

"Forgive me, my lady," Teagan said softly. "I did not mean to frighten you."

"Oh, it's quite alright, my Lord," she laughed. "In fact, you woke me up a little."

"My lady," he repeated. "You really must get some rest. I can see how much you care for Alistair, but there really is nothing more you can do for him."

Blythe shook her head. "I must stay awake," she replied, pointing to the _Lifeward _Glyph that surrounded Alistair and Allis, "to keep this going."

"What is its purpose?" Teagan asked.

"It's keeping him alive while his body replenishes its blood supply," she replied. "If I fall asleep or lose concentration, the spell will be lost, and…" she fell quiet.

"And how long will it take for his blood supply to be restored?" asked Teagan.

"It's hard to say," she shrugged. "I can't say exactly how much blood he lost, but he's a strong, healthy man, and I'm hoping that within 24-48 hours his blood supply will have returned to normal."

"But you can't stay awake for that long!" Teagan whispered strenuously.

"I won't need to," she replied. "As soon as I see some colour return to him, I can remove the Lifeward, although he will remain weak for at least a few days. He will need to take lots of fluids and eat hearty meals with plenty of red meat."

"He shall have all he needs," Teagan promised with a nod of his head, then yawned and opened his eyes wide, trying to keep himself awake.

"May I…?" asked Blythe, placing her hands on Teagan's arms. She closed her eyes and concentrated as a blue glow transferred from her body to Teagan's.

"That is…marvellous!" Teagan exclaimed quietly, feeling refreshed and alert. "Thank you!"

"You're most welcome," she replied as she turned her attention once more to maintaining the _Lifeward_.

"My lady," Teagan said, stepping forward, "surely one of the other mages can take over this duty?"

"Alas, no," Blythe replied. "I am a Spirit Healer. The other two mages do not possess my skills, nor I theirs. They are not capable of casting or maintaining a Lifeward spell."

"Ah, I see," Teagan replied, realising he knew little about mages. "Did you choose to become a healer?"

"No," said Blythe. "Each mage is born with an innate ability, which is nurtured at the Circle Tower. I was born with the ability to heal, and with a proclivity for the Creation school of magic. I specialised in Spirit Healing only 5 weeks ago. Once a healer has learned that specialisation, they are ready to take their Harrowing.

Allis was born with the power to command the elements, and had a predilection toward the Primal school of magic. A mage of his kind is ready for their Harrowing when they are able to cast and control Tier 4 spells, such as the _Blizzard _he summoned during the battle.

As for Morrigan…well, she is an apostate, and learned all she knows from her mother. She seems to be an all-rounder, which is unusual. I've seen her use spells from the Primal, Spirit and Entropic schools of magic, although none of them are as powerful as Allis'."

"Fascinating," Teagan nodded, seeming genuinely interested.

Blythe grinned. "You are a gentleman, Ser," she laughed. "Most people fall asleep when I start talking about the schools of magic!"

"On the contrary," Teagan replied softly, "I find you to be a most charming and erudite woman, and beautiful as well."

Blythe blushed and smiled shyly, hanging her head down.

"Oh, forgive me, my lady," Teagan apologised, "I am too bold for such a short acquaintance."

"No, it's not that," Blythe replied quietly. "I…I, too, find you to be a most charming and warm-hearted man…" her words trailed off and she shook her head, meeting Teagan's gaze. "I am truly sorry, Teagan, but my heart belongs to another - someone I cannot be with - and I am still grieving over that fact. I would not hurt you by leading you to believe anything else."

Teagan shook his head sadly. "Then you have my utmost sympathy, my lady. I shall pray that you and your heart's desire may one day be reunited," he said genuinely.

"Thank you," she whispered, feeling a sting at the back of her throat. "You're very kind."

Teagan placed his fist over his heart, bowed his head and turned to walk away. "Teagan?" Blythe said softly, taking his hands. "If things had been different…"

"I know," he replied, gazing into her eyes. Blythe stood on her tiptoes and kissed him tenderly on the cheek.

"You honour me, my lady," Teagan said quietly, bowed low, and walked away.

Blythe watched him walk away, feeling a mixture of regret and longing. She was unaware that Zevran had overheard their whole exchange as he feigned sleep.

_Well, at least he is out of the picture now_, he thought. He risked opening his eyes a little and watched Blythe as she stood with her hand covering her eyes, her body racked with silent sobs. An ugly, unfamiliar feeling stabbed at his gut. _Who is this __man of whom she speaks?_ he wondered._ Why can they not be together?_

Zevran closed his eyes firmly, forcing the image of Blythe's distress out of his mind. _You are becoming soft! _he remonstrated himself. _She is a conquest, nothing more!__ Enough of this foolishness!_

O~~~~~~~~~O

Dawn arrived and people began to stir within the Chantry. There was no time for celebrations over the previous night's victory, as this day started much in the same way as the one preceding it; preparations had to be made anew for tonight's onslaught. Teagan, who looked fit to drop, appointed someone to take Murdock's place as head of the Militia; a new Mayor would have to be decided another time.

Blythe leaned over Allis to touch Alistair's face. A little warmth had returned to him, and his colour had improved slightly. She decided to maintain the _Lifeward_ for a few more hours to be safe.

"I just had the most wonderful dream that I was being attacked by two giant marshmallows," a muffled voice spoke from beneath Blythe.

"Sorry, Allis!" Blythe laughed, stepping back to give Allis some air. The elf turned toward Alistair and stroked his hair.

"He looks a little more colourful than he did last night, Blythe," he said with relief, his face dropping as he looked at her. "Oh, Blythe. You look exhausted, you poor thing." He got to his feet, covering Alistair with the blankets, and gave her a hug. "You need to get some sleep," he said as he drew back. "He should be safe, now."

"No," said Blythe, shaking her head and yawning. "I'll keep it going for a little while longer. I promise I'll get some sleep soon."

Sten walked over to them and stood over Alistair. "He will live," he said brusquely.

"Yes, it looks that way, Sten," Blythe replied, her brow furrowing as she took Sten's hand. "Sten!" she exclaimed, "you have a huge gash on your arm! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I need no magic," he stated firmly. "That is not our way," he added, referring to the Qunari distrust of mages.

"Well, what about the spells I cast on you during the battle?" Blythe replied.

"I had little choice in that matter," he said with displeasure.

"Just hold still, you stubborn man!" Blythe exclaimed as she grabbed his arm and attempted to heal him.

"No thank you, Warden," Sten replied as he snatched his arm back and walked away.

"What happens when your arm gets infected and rots off, Sten?" she called after him in exasperation.

"I have cleaned the wound," he replied as he headed away from them. "I need nothing more."

"You know," remarked Allis, "I wouldn't be surprised if he cleaned it with his teeth. Or got Reaper to lick it clean."

Blythe shuddered at the thought. "Bann Teagan is hailing us," she said to Allis. "You go and talk to him. I'll stay here with Alistair."

"Alright," he replied, heading over to Teagan. "Back in a bit."

"Sit, my dear," came a voice at her back. She turned around to see Zevran placing a wooden chair behind her.

"Where did you get that?" she laughed.

"Beautiful women should not trouble themselves with such questions," he said evasively and patted the seat. Blythe sat down gratefully. Zevran moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently squeezing them. "So much tension," he tutted. "I was once known to give the finest, and most highly sought after, massages in all of Antiva," he purred. "I think that our selfless healer is deserving of such a treat, don't you? With your leave, of course."

"Oh, that sounds wonderful, Zevran," she replied. "Just don't let me fall asleep, alright?"

"I promise, Dolce Cuore," he whispered as he began his skilful ministrations, taking care that neither Allis nor Sten were watching.

o~o

Allis, Sten, Leliana and Reaper walked over when Teagan had finished speaking to them. Zevran had finished massaging Blythe and they both stood over Alistair as the others approached.

"Teagan wants us to meet him at the windmill," Allis announced. "We're going to try and enter the castle and find the source of the undead creatures. This village won't withstand many more attacks like last night's." He walked over to Alistair then turned to Blythe. "Is there any chance of Alistair being well enough by later today?"

"Absolutely not," said Blythe firmly. "He needs rest, food, and more rest. But he _will _be alright, Allis. He just won't be able to go to the Castle with you."

Allis breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright, we'll have to manage without him. The last thing I want to do is impede his recovery," he replied. "Will you be able to come with us, Blythe?"

"I don't know," she said hesitantly, looking at Alistair. "I'm sure he'd be looked after in here, but I'd rather stay with him."

"We need you, Blythe," Allis replied. "If you think Alistair can manage without you, we will need a healer. I want to stay with Alistair as well, but we have to think of the village. He'll understand."

Blythe nodded. "Yes, you're right. Alright, I'm going to lift the Lifeward and see if he's strong enough. If he's not, though, I'm staying here. Besides the fact he's our friend, Allis, we have to remember who he really is, and who he may be one day."

Blythe held her arms over Alistair's body and the others watched as the Glyph disappeared. She then placed her arms on his chest and closed her eyes. Diaphanous strands of white light rose from Alistair's body and dissipated as she _Revived _him. Blythe stroked his cheek as he mumbled and his eyes flickered open.

"Maker's Blood!" he croaked. "I feel like a Mabari is running around inside my head, and it keeps biting my brain!" he whined. Reaper barked in greeting.

Allis and Blythe laughed. "That's our Alistair!" Allis exclaimed happily, planting a gentle kiss on the Templar's cheek.

"Hey…!" Alistair mumbled dreamily, weakly attempting to touch Allis' face, then giving up and letting his arm fall onto his chest.

"We'll leave you two alone for a bit," said Blythe. "I'm going to tell the Revered Mother exactly what care he is going to need."

She was interrupted by an approaching Templar. "Excuse me, Miss," he said, "I'm going to need that chair back. The Revered Mother has been looking for it everywhere."

"Oh…of course!" Blythe replied, feeling her face flush. "Sorry!" she cringed as the Templar grabbed the chair and walked away, shaking his head.

Blythe wheeled round to face Zevran. "You _stole _the Revered Mother's chair?" she exclaimed, trying without success to hide the laughter in her voice.

Zevran tutted. "'Stole' is such an ugly word, my dear," he drawled. "I prefer 'liberated,' myself."

"You are so naughty," she laughed. "Well, you're coming with me to see the Revered Mother. You can share in the shame you created!"

"Oh, my dear, innocent woman," Zevran sighed. "When are you going to realise? Zevran Arainai _has _no shame!"

O~~~~~~~~~~O

The group, minus Alistair, met Teagan by the windmill after lunch, allowing both he and Blythe to snatch a couple of hours' sleep.

"Odd how quiet the castle looks from here," Teagan murmured. "You would think there was nobody inside at all. But I shouldn't delay things further. I had a plan to enter the Castle after the village was secure. There is a secret passage here, in the mill, accessible only to my family."

"Why didn't you enter the Castle in the first place?" asked Allis.

"I had no idea what lurked in the Castle," he replied. "And I couldn't abandon the people of the village. What if – _Maker's Breath!_" he exclaimed and pointed behind the group. They turned to see a smartly dressed woman in her early forties running towards them. A Castle guard followed her.

"Teagan!" she cried. "Thank the Maker you yet live!"

"Isolde!" Teagan exclaimed. "You're alive! How did you…what has happened?"

_Isolde? _Thought Allis. _So this is the bitch who made Alistair's childhood such a misery?_

"I do not have much time to explain," Isolde replied. "I slipped away from the Castle as soon as the battle was over, and I must return quickly. "And…I…need you to return with me, Teagan…alone."

"We're going to need more of an explanation than that," Allis said flatly, folding his arms.

Isolde turned to face him, her face twisted with disdain. "What?" she hissed, "Who is this _man_, Teagan?"

"They are Grey Wardens, Isolde," said Teagan. "I owe them my life."

"Pardon me," said Isolde to Allis, who glared at her coldly. "I would exchange pleasantries, but…considering the circumstances…" She turned to face Teagan. "I know you need more of an explanation, but I don't know what is safe to tell! Teagan, there is a terrible evil within the Castle! The dead waken and hunt the living! And I think Connor is going mad! We have survived but he won't flee the Castle. He has seen so much death…

You must help him, Teagan! You are his uncle, you could reason with him! I do not know what else to do!"

Allis stepped forward. "Why do I get the feeling you're not telling us everything?" he asked, his eyebrow cocked.

Isolde glared at him. "That is rather an impertinent accusation!" she replied indignantly.

"Impertinent for an elf, you mean?" he spat.

"No! I-I didn't mean…" Isolde began.

"You're not talking to one of your elven servants now, you know!" Allis said venomously. "We, and the citizens of this village, fought a terrible battle last night, and lost several good people! But you don't seem to care about any of that, do you? And you don't feel inclined to give us any kind of explanation as to why the undead creatures have appeared! Well, you obviously know _something_, as you seem to have miraculously survived! Now, Teagan is not going _anywhere_ until _you _give us an explanation!" _Bitch! _He almost said out loud.

"I…I…" she stuttered. "S-something has been unleashed within the Castle. It has kept Eamon, Connor and myself alive so far, but many others have not been so fortunate. It killed so many, and turned their bodies into walking nightmares! Once it was done with the Castle, it struck the village…it wants us to live, but I do not know why! It allowed me to come for you, Teagan, because I begged, because I said Connor needed help."

Allis turned to Morrigan and Blythe. "This sounds like the work of a demon to me. Would you agree?"

"I would indeed," Morrigan concurred. "Have you any mages in the Castle?" she asked Isolde.

"Only the one who tends my husband," Isolde replied, looking uncomfortable. "Why do you ask?"

"Because it is very unlikely a demon would manifest itself without the presence of a mage," replied Blythe. "It sounds to me like your healer is possessed, and your husband is being kept alive because he is a thrall of the demon. How you and your son have survived, however, is a mystery."

"No, I do not think that is it…" Isolde said quietly to herself. The three mages shot suspicious glances at one another.

"So, you know better than mages, do you?" Allis retorted, his anger rising again.

Blythe grabbed his arm. "Lady Isolde," she said as politely as she could. "We need to speak to Teagan for a moment, in private."

Isolde eyed them warily, suddenly feeling hot, as she knew they doubted her story. "V-very well," she replied. "But please, do not take too long. I shall wait by the bridge for you, Teagan." She and the Castle guard turned and walked away, Isolde feeling the mages' eyes on her.

"Something's very wrong here, Teagan," said Allis. "Isolde's story just doesn't add up. She _is _hiding something." The other two mages murmured in agreement.

"I realise that," replied Teagan, "but the King is dead. My brother is needed now more than ever. I will return to the Castle with Isolde."

"No, Teagan," said Blythe. "This is a trap! We can't let you go in there alone!"

Teagan thought for a moment. "Here's what I propose," he said. "I go in with Isolde, and you enter the Castle using the secret passage. My signet ring unlocks the door. Perhaps I will…distract whatever evil is inside, and increase your chances of getting in unnoticed. What do you say?"

"Good," nodded Allis. "I'd prefer it this way."

"Excellent," replied Teagan. "Ser Perth and his men can watch for danger at the Castle entrance. If you can open the gates from within, they can move in and help you. Here is my signet ring," he said, handing it to Allis. "It will open the lock on the door in the mill. Whatever you decide to do, Eamon is the priority here. Just get him out of there if you have to. Isolde, me and anyone else – we're expendable."

"I don't believe that," said Allis. "We will rescue you all; I promise."

"You are a good man," said Teagan gratefully. "The Maker smiled on me indeed when he sent you and your friends to Redcliffe. But I can delay no longer. Allow me to bid you farewell…and good luck."

"Good luck to you, Teagan," said Blythe as he walked away, only pausing to turn back and bow his head in thanks.

The group watched him leave and let themselves into the windmill, wondering just what they were about to face.


	15. Wait for me

**Thank you so much to my regular reviewers - Jen, Shakespira, voltagelisa, CCBug, Eva Galana, Nithu, Cousland1982 and hi to my latest reviewer, elvenlover!**

**The biggest thank you of all, as always to my dear friend and super Beta Reader Jen! Love you, girl!**

**O~~~~~~~~O **

_He lay on his back and gazed up in awe at the vision of perfection before him. She was a goddess to him; pure and flawless in every way. He adored her alabaster skin, her glorious mane of thick hair, her heavy-lidded cornflower blue eyes and her soft, inviting lips, tinged red; from which came forth gentle moans and sweet whispers of love._

"_I love you," she murmured softly. "I've always loved you. When I close my eyes at night I think of you. I can't sleep otherwise. I imagine you're there with me. I hear your voice. I smell you. I feel your touch…I feel your beard against my skin…oh!"_

_She cried out and started rocking back and forth as she sat atop him. He felt a surge of heat slam into him and threw his head back, wanting to cry out and tell her everything, but no sound came from his mouth. _

"_I love you!" he thought. "I'm coming to find you! Please wait for me!"_

"_Please hurry!" she pleaded. "I ache for you day and night…I miss you so much, my love…"_

"_Blythe!" he cried, finally finding his voice. "Wait for me! Please, wait for me!"_

"_Blythe?"_

She was gone. Cullen opened his eyes. He was lying next to a river. Anders' tent was pitched not far away. _Oh, Maker, I'm supposed to be keeping watch_, he thought. As he sat up, trying to steady his breathing, he felt his erection tug at his breeches. He sat there for a moment, wondering what he should do. His hand moved down and rested against his manhood. He closed his eyes and thought of Blythe, naked and sitting on top of him, grinding against him as he had just dreamed; as he had envisioned so often.

_No! _he thought, getting to his feet. _I won't sully her memory like that, just to gratify myself!_

He broke into a jog and travelled up and down the bank of the river, keeping Anders' tent in sight at all times. The image of her would not abate; he had to force himself to think of something else. _Templar duty. Long, tedious hours stuck in one spot…_he pictured himself on duty in the library. Then _she _walked in. _Blast it! _he thought. _Alright, I know…_ He pictured a grey-haired, bearded man wearing heavy plate armour, its breastplate embossed with Andraste's Sword of Mercy. That did the trick. Cullen felt himself collapse inside his breeches, then groaned as his balls started to ache.

Anders crawled out of his tent and watched Cullen running up and down the riverbank. He'd heard Cullen cry out in his sleep, but didn't want to make it obvious by leaving his tent too soon. The sun was starting to rise, and as they were only a few hours away from Redcliffe, Anders thought that now was as good a time as any to press on.

"Cullen?" he called. Cullen turned around and jogged over to Anders. "Well, you seem wide awake," Anders grinned, "and I feel quite refreshed. I expect you're keen to get to Redcliffe, so we can set out as soon as we've washed and had a bite to eat, if you like?"

"Yes, thank you, Anders," Cullen replied. He suspected that Anders had heard him yell out, as he had been loud enough to wake the dead, but the mage's words confirmed it for him. Cullen felt a little embarrassed, but at the same time he was touched that Anders was prepared to forsake a few hours' sleep in order for them to reach Redcliffe more quickly.

_We're on our way, Blythe, _he thought, looking west toward Redcliffe. _Wait for me._

O~~~~~~~~~O

Blythe, Allis and their companions had been unprepared for the number of undead that were waiting for them in the Castle; all unfortunate Castle staff, no doubt, who had been consumed and transformed by whatever evil lurked further within. They had found a few survivors, fortunately, and had freed them; one of whom was the blacksmith's daughter. After reaching the courtyard and opening the gates for Ser Perth and his Knights, the group stormed the Castle and gained entry as the sun began to rise, finally vanquishing the last of the undead.

They left Ser Perth and his men to secure the Castle gate and to begin burning the undead corpses, and entered. As the group reached the anteroom to the main hall, the three mages slowed their pace, finally stopping and looking at one another. They all felt the same unwholesome sensation of something trying to get under their skin and into their thoughts. Reaper emitted a low snarl, his hackles raised and his teeth bared.

"What's wrong?" whispered Leliana.

"What we have come to find awaits us in the next room," Allis replied in a low voice, stroking Reaper's head in an attempt to calm him. "A desire demon, I think." Blythe nodded in agreement.

Zevran prepared to make a suggestive remark, but thought better of it. "How shall we proceed?" he asked instead.

"It may try to trick us, make a bargain with us, offer us whatever we want," said Blythe, addressing the whole group. "Try not to engage it in conversation, if you can help it. Just remember what it is, what it's responsible for, and that we are here to kill it, nothing else."

Blythe's companions nodded and murmured in agreement, before readying their weapons. Allis inclined his head toward the entrance to the main hall. Blythe and Allis entered first, with Reaper at their side; Morrigan and the others followed close behind. The group entered the hall and stopped once more as they looked ahead. Standing on the dais at the other end of the hall stood Isolde and a young boy, who they assumed to be Connor; he laughed and clapped his hands in amusement as his uncle Teagan gamboled and frolicked in front of him, before returning to the dais and sitting at the boy's feet.

Allis, Blythe and Morrigan exchanged defeated glances. Their plan to kill the demon was no longer so clear-cut. It was obvious to them that the Desire Demon had inhabited Connor's body, and none of them wished to kill a little boy.

Allis' mouth twisted with disgust as he approached the dais, his eyes fixed on Isolde. She stood with sagging shoulders and a look of despair in her eyes. "Didn't you think it important enough to tell us your son was a mage, Isolde?" Allis barked.

"Who are these people, Mother?" demanded Connor, his own voice echoed by a second, deeper one. "Are these the ones who defeated my soldiers? The ones I sent to reclaim my village?" Isolde nodded wearily.

"I'm waiting for an answer, Isolde," interrupted Allis, ignoring the demon. "How old is he? Seven, eight? He should be at the Circle Tower!"

Morrigan looked at him incredulously. "You would condemn a child to a life of servitude and restriction in that prison on the Lake? I am shocked and dismayed that…"

"Look at him, Morrigan!" interrupted Blythe. "This is exactly _why _children of his age need to be at the Tower! They need guidance and discipline! This is exactly the sort of thing that can happen when parents try to hide their Magi child from the Circle."

"That's what's happened here, isn't it?" Allis said, addressing Isolde. "You knew he had magic, but decided to hide him. Without the proper instruction and guidance, he has developed powers he can't control, and was an easy target for a demon. You do realise, don't you, that everything that has happened in Redcliffe is a direct result of your decision?" he cried, growing angry. "Everyone that has died or been transformed into a walking corpse? All because of you, Isolde! And now, you may force us to kill a young boy to put an end to all of this! You may lose your son after all!"

"No!" screamed Isolde, running to Connor's side. "Please! Don't hurt my baby! There must be something I can do! I beg you!"

"Mother? What's happening?" Connor asked fearfully.

"Oh, thank the Maker!" cried Isolde, falling to her knees in prayer. "Please," she beseeched, facing Allis, "my son is not always as you just saw him. Sometimes the real Connor breaks through." Isolde reached over to stroke her son's hair.

"Get away from me, fool woman!" Connor bellowed, causing Isolde to stand back in fright. "Always trying to stop my fun, you and uncle Teagan! Well, you won't be able to stop me anymore! Now, uncle Teagan. You were so full of yourself today, weren't you? Trying to tell me what to do and order me around? Well, just try and tell me what to do now!"

"Nobody tells _him _what to do!" laughed Teagan, affecting a comical voice. "Nobody!"

"What have you done to him, foul creature?" demanded Blythe.

Connor laughed to himself. "I have made him a court jester for my amusement!" he mocked. "I rather like him this way!"

"I demand that you release your hold on him this instant!" Blythe shouted, taking out her staff, as her companions also readied their weapons. "Or I will take the boy's life, and yours with it," she bluffed.

"No! Please!" pleaded Isolde. Connor momentarily looked frightened before running out of the room. Teagan rose to his feet and drew his sword, advancing towards Blythe and Allis.

"Don't kill him!" Allis yelled. "He's not acting of his own accord!" Several undead creatures spilled into the room and attacked the group.

Sten immediately charged over to Teagan and easily parried the Bann's swing with his own; then, grabbing Teagan's sword arm and twisting it behind his back, disarmed him and dragged him away from the rest of the fighting.

Blythe stood in the centre of the hall, taunting the undead to approach her, as Allis told the others to stay back. He and Blythe had practised this tactic many times in camp. As they were almost upon her, she thrust her staff into the air and stunned them with a Mind Blast. Blythe then ran to a safe distance and Allis Fireballed the entire group of undead, setting them ablaze. The two Wardens then each cast a Glyph of Repulsion, and Morrigan, catching on, cast one of her own, so that the creatures were completely surrounded. As they revived they were repelled backwards by the Glyphs, and Leliana and Zevran easily picked them off with their bows, and the mages with Lightning and Arcane Bolts.

Teagan stopped struggling and his knees gave way. Sten lowered him to the floor, still keeping a hold of him. As Zevran looted the corpses, Allis and Blythe approached them. "I think it's safe to release him now, Sten," said Allis.

"Very well," muttered Sten, dropping Teagan to the floor, who winced and grabbed his arm. Blythe knelt down and examined him.

"You've broken his arm, Sten!" she cried in disbelief.

"I did as instructed," Sten replied flatly. "I did not kill him."

"Hold still," Blythe said softly to Teagan. "This will hurt for a moment." Teagan bore the pain with dignity as she healed the fracture. "No sword fighting for at least a few days," she instructed. "It'll be sore for a while."

"Thank you, dear lady," Teagan said gratefully, flexing his arm. "I am…sorry for what just occurred. I think I am myself again, now."

"Oh, thank the Maker!" cried Isolde, doing her best to ignore the filthy looks the mages were throwing her way. "I-if anything had happened to you, Teagan…I am such a fool…I only want to protect Connor."

"Isn't that what started all of this?" Teagan snapped, "trying to protect him by hiding his magical powers? The Wardens are correct. He must study at the Circle Tower, if and when he can be rid of this demon."

"No!" Isolde cried. "I won't let anyone take away my boy! Not you, and certainly not Eamon!"

"Eamon?" asked Teagan, giving Isolde a dangerous glare. "What does Eamon have to do with this? Does he know that Connor is a mage?"

"No," murmured Isolde, unable to meet his gaze. "I…I meant nothing. I am just upset, that's all."

"Look," interrupted Allis. "We need to decide what to do. Where is Connor?"

"He ran upstairs," said Leliana. "He was frightened."

Teagan nodded. "What are our options, Warden Surana?" he asked.

Allis sighed. "The quickest option would be to kill the boy…"

"No!" yelled Isolde.

"Will you stop screaming for one blasted minute and let me finish!" Allis yelled back. Isolde shakily nodded her head. Allis faced Teagan once more. "There is another option. The Circle of Magi is but a day's travel from here. We could go there and appeal for the mage's help. They could bring more mages and send someone into the fade to face the demon directly. However, it will mean that Connor, or rather the demon, will be free to continue its attacks while we are gone."

Teagan weighed up the options carefully in his mind. "I think we have to give Connor a chance," he said finally. "We have Connor contained within the castle, and Ser Perth and his Knights can guard him and contain any undead creatures he summons. However, I would feel better if one of you mages remained here, to keep an extra eye on him, and to advise us, if that would be agreeable?"

"Give us a moment, Teagan," said Blythe, as she took Allis and Morrigan to one side. "Listen…" she began. "I don't really want to go back to the Circle Tower."

"Do you not wish to see your Templar friend again?" replied Morrigan.

"What, and have to say goodbye all over again?" she said sadly. "No, Morrigan. I don't think I could bear it."

"You don't really think Greagoir would allow you to see him, do you?" said Allis. "And just imagine the look on the bastard's face when the two of us walk through the doors! I bet he thinks we died at Ostagar!"

"I bet they all think that," Blythe replied, her brow furrowing. "I hadn't even considered that."

"Well, I am glad 'tis settled then," said Morrigan. "I for one have no wish to enter that prison for mages, now or ever."

"Wait!" cried Blythe. "Nothing's been settled yet!"

"Yes it has," said Allis firmly, as he grabbed Blythe's arm and dragged her towards Teagan. "I'm not going with her!" he whispered. "I'll end up killing her!"

Allis addressed Teagan. "Morrigan will stay here with you until our return," he announced. "Alistair may be able to assist you as well, when he recovers. He is a Templar, after all."

"That is wonderful," Teagan replied. "I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am for everything you have all done."

"There really is no need, Teagan," said Blythe. "There is one more thing I may be able to help with before we leave."

"Oh? What is that?" asked Teagan, intrigued.

"Well," she replied. "I was wondering if I could speak to your healing mage? The one tending to Eamon? Perhaps I could be of some help."

"That's a wonderful…" Teagan began, before being interrupted by Isolde.

"There really is no need, Warden," Isolde said stiffly. "My mage has everything in hand."

"I think we should take Warden Amell up on her generous offer," Teagan replied, with a hint of irritation in his voice. "Unless there is a _reason _you do not wish another healer to look at him, Isolde?"

"Oh, no – no reason at all," she replied. "Forgive me, Warden Amell. It has been a long day. Please follow me."

"If you don't need me, Blythe, I'm going to see Alistair," said Allis.

"Of course!" Blythe smiled. "Give my favourite ex-Templar a kiss from me, alright?"

"I'll give him two!" Allis chirped as he headed for the door.

O~~~~~~~~~O

Blythe, Teagan and Isolde entered Eamon's bedchamber. A male mage sat in a chair next to the bed, snoozing. Teagan cleared his throat noisily.

"Oh!" cried the mage, leaping up. "Forgive me, My Lord. I…"

"This is Grey Warden Blythe Amell, Dailen," said Teagan. "She has very generously offered her aid. She is a Spirit Healer," he said proudly with a surreptitious wink at Blythe.

"As am I, My Lord," Dailen replied, a little defensively, Blythe thought.

"Good," she said impassively. "You can tell me how you've been treating him, then."

"Well," Dailen said as Blythe examined inside Eamon's mouth and lifted his eyelids to examine his eyes, "I don't really know what I'm treating him for…look, I've done all that, the examinations, you really don't need to…"

"Have you tried heat therapy?" she asked.

"Of course!" Dailen replied.

"And how did he respond?"

"He didn't," he replied irascibly.

Blythe nodded her head, biting back a feeling of dread and anger. "How about Rashvine and Deathroot? As a purgative?"

"Yes, I've tried that!" he replied, barely hiding his anger. "I'm sorry, My Lord," he addressed Teagan, "but I really don't see the point…"

"Forgive me, Dailen," Blythe said, smiling sweetly. "I have no wish to tread on your toes. I am sure you would ask the same questions in my position."

"Yes, no doubt you're right," Dailen replied, visibly exhaling.

"I will leave you to your work, then," said Blythe, making a subtle gesture with her eyes for Teagan to follow her as she exited, leaving Isolde with the mage and her husband. "Is there somewhere we can talk in private?" she asked Teagan as they walked through the main hall.

"Yes," he replied. "Eamon's study. This way."

They entered the study. "What's wrong?" Teagan asked as he closed the door.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, Teagan," she said with a heavy sigh, "but you have more problems than you realise."

"What do you mean?" Teagan replied sharply.

"Eamon is being poisoned," she said bluntly.

"Pois…!" he exclaimed loudly before lowering his voice. "Are you certain of this?"

"Yes," she said angrily. "I could tell as soon as I examined him, from the colour of his skin and eyes, his breath, the burn marks inside his mouth, and the bald patches atop his head. Any apprentice healer could tell as much from such a brief examination. What I would like to know is, how did your so-called Spirit Healer miss it?"

"Are you suggesting that he…" said Teagan warily.

"I'm not suggesting anything. I am merely questioning your mage's knowledge," she replied diplomatically, but her words were loaded with meaning.

"I see," said Teagan knowingly. "What should I do?"

"Do nothing for now," Blythe replied. "Eamon is strong for the moment. Allis and I will set off for the Tower immediately. I will try to bring back a Herbalist, perhaps they can devise an antidote. I have a friend at the Tower, Anders, who is a Master Herbalist, but it's very unlikely they'd let him out. I'll find somebody though, Teagan, don't worry. Then, upon our return, we can investigate the mage."

"Very well," Teagan replied, taking a deep breath. "Once more, I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

"You're more than welcome, Teagan," she smiled grimly. "I should go. I will pay Alistair a quick visit at the Chantry, then we will set off. There is no time to lose."

O~~~~~~~~~O

Teagan accompanied Blythe to the Chantry to see Alistair, who was recovering well, but was still not fit to travel, let alone fight. Blythe and Allis took Sten and Zevran with them – Allis only taking the Antivan along so he could keep an eye on him – and Teagan walked them to the Lake and saw them off. Allis had decided that they would travel along Lake Calenhad's shore rather than take the main road.

Teagan headed back to the Chantry to speak to Alistair again and tell him of Blythe's concerns about the mage. Alistair had been moved to a small room with a proper bed. They had only been speaking for a few minutes when a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in!" Alistair called.

One of Ser Perth's Knights entered. "Forgive the intrusion, my Lord," he said, placing his fist over his heart and bowing.

"Not at all, Ser Rowan," Teagan replied. "What is it?"

"I thought you should be informed immediately, my Lord," Ser Rowan replied, "two men have been arrested and taken to the dungeons. They are strangers to the village and were asking questions about the whereabouts of the Grey Wardens. We suspect them to be Loghain's men. They will not give their names, nor do they bear any identifying papers or devices, but they claim to be friends of the Wardens."

"If that were the case, why did they not give their names?" asked Teagan.

"Precisely, my Lord," replied the Knight.

Teagan stood up. "Excuse me, Alistair," he said brusquely, "I shall get to the bottom of this and return to you with any news."

"Bash some heads for me, Teagan!" called Alistair.

"I intend to," replied Teagan.


	16. Elven Nature

**Jen - thank you for your kindness over the last few days, and for being such a wonderful friend. xxx**

Teagan and Rowan – along with Ser Perth – entered the dungeons of Redcliffe Castle and walked up to the cell holding the two prisoners. Teagan looked at them coolly as he attempted to take their measure.

The prisoners sat together on a bench. The first, a tall, beefy, red**-**haired man with a goatee looked back at Teagan with anxiety in his eyes; the second was also tall but much slimmer than his friend, with his dark blond hair swept back into a ponytail and a slender, angular face that bore an expression of practised indifference.

"Gentlemen," said Teagan. "I am Bann Teagan, acting ruler of Redcliffe. I hear you have been asking a lot of questions about the Grey Wardens. I require you to identify yourselves, tell me what you want with the Wardens, and who you work for."

The two men exchanged confused glances and remained silent.

"I would be quite happy to leave you here to rot," Teagan continued, "but it's not that simple. I need to know who sent you, and if any more will be following. If you refuse to speak to us, we shall have to use less friendly methods to obtain the information we seek. Let us be civil about this, shall we?"

Teagan watched them carefully. In reality he had no intention of torturing them, nor anyone for that matter, but sometimes an implied threat worked as well as the act itself.

The two men huddled together and whispered for a few moments. Finally the red**-**haired man spoke. "May we speak to you in private, Bann Teagan? Without your guards?"

"For what purpose?" Teagan asked.

"Because we want as few people as possible to know what we are about to tell you," he replied warily.

Teagan nodded to Rowan and Perth. "We'll be just outside the door," Ser Perth said as they departed.

Teagan waited for them to leave then spoke. "Go ahead," he said.

"Forgive our lack of co-operation, " the red-haired man said, "but we are fugitives. We were unsure of what was safe to tell. I believe you to be an honourable and just man, however, Bann Teagan, and I feel we can trust you."

"Do I know you?" asked Teagan. "You do seem familiar to me."

"Perhaps, my Lord," he replied, "although it would be more accurate to say I know you. I am a Templar, and took my final vows at the Chantry here in Redcliffe five months ago, before being transferred to the Circle Tower."

"I see," said Teagan. "And who is your friend?"

"I am a mage, Ser," the blond man replied.

"So…you were apprehending an apostate, then?" Teagan asked the Templar.

"No," he sighed and glanced at his friend. "I helped him to escape from the Tower."

"What?" Teagan exclaimed. "You _aided _an apostate to escape?"

"We have our reasons, Bann Teagan," thered-haired man replied cautiously. "Things are not well at the Circle Tower. I cannot be any more explicit than that, I fear. We know the Wardens, Blythe Amell and Allis Surana, and heard wrongly that they had been lost at Ostagar. When we discovered they were, in fact, alive, we tried to follow them. We heard that they had come to Redcliffe."

"In what capacity do you know them?" Teagan asked.

"They're our friends," replied the blond-haired man.

Teagan thought for a moment. "If you are indeed both from the Circle Tower as you claim," he said, "then you will know of a mage named Anders…"

The two men looked at one another.

"…who is a friend of one of the Wardens. You should be able to tell me what he specialises in."

"I am Anders, Ser," the blond**-**haired man sighed. "I'm a Spirit Healer, and a Master Herbalist."

Teagan nodded his head.

"In truth, Ser," said Anders, "I could easily have paralysed you and your men and persuaded you to unlock the cell, but we have no wish to harm anyone. We just want to find our friends, that's all."

"And what is your name, Ser?" Teagan asked the red**-**haired man.

"Cullen, my Lord," he replied, standing up and bowing with his arms crossed. "At your service."

"Ser Perth!" called Teagan.

"Yes, my Lord?" he replied as he approached.

"Unlock the cell, Ser Perth," Teagan instructed. "I believe these men to be genuine."

"As you wish, my Lord," Perth said as he took his keys out and released the men.

"That will be all, Ser Perth," said Teagan. "Thank you." Ser Perth placed his fist over his heart and bowed, before exiting.

"Thank you, my Lord," said Cullen. "Could you tell us if Blythe and Allis are indeed in Redcliffe?"

"They were," Teagan replied, "in fact you have only just missed them. They left for the Circle Tower only a short time ago."

"Oh…!" Anders groaned. "The Circle Tower? That's it, then! We can't go after them now, can we?" Cullen looked despondent.

"Fear not, gentlemen," Teagan reassured them. "They have some business at the Tower, upon the conclusion of which they shall be returning to Redcliffe."

Cullen and Anders grinned and embraced each other. "Yes!" cried Anders. Teagan smiled; he could see their friendship was genuine.

"Wait…" said Cullen. "They may not even get into the Tower. There was trouble when we left, and nobody was being allowed in."

"Trouble?" asked Teagan. "What kind of trouble?"

"We don't know," replied Anders. "We were told that there were explosions and fires at the Tower, and that nobody was being permitted to leave _or _enter."

Teagan sighed heavily, realising that if the Wardens were unsuccessful in securing the mages' aid, then Connor may indeed have to be slain.

"Very well," said Teagan. "We shall see what transpires. In the meantime, until the Wardens' return, you shall both remain in the Castle and your identities kept secret. I shall want something in return, however."

"Just name it!" Anders said gratefully.

"Warden Amell informed me that you are an expert on Herbalism and poisons," said Teagan.

"That's correct, my Lord," replied Anders. "What would you like me to do?"

Teagan explained how Blythe had suspected that Eamon had been poisoned, and that the mage tending to the Arl was under suspicion. He walked Anders and Cullen to the upper floor of Castle Redcliffe.

As they approached Eamon's bedchamber, Anders turned to Teagan and whispered. "Would you like me to be discreet, as Blythe was?" he asked.

"On the contrary, Anders," replied Teagan. "You may be as frank as you wish. I would be interested to see Dailen's reaction."

As they walked in, Dailen and Isolde were talking. "Leave us, Isolde," instructed Teagan. "We wish to speak to Dailen in private."

"For what reason?" she asked suspiciously. "And who are these men, Teagan?"

"_Leave_ us, Isolde," Teagan repeated with a hint of menace in his voice.

"I-I…oh, very well," she sighed, realising she would not win this argument, and exited, closing the door behind her.

"Will you please examine my brother, Anders?" Teagan asked.

"Of course," Anders replied and began immediately. Dailen began to protest but stopped when he saw the fierce look in Teagan's eyes.

"Blythe was correct, my Lord," said Anders, removing his hand from Eamon's head, taking a tuft of hair with it. "He _has_ been poisoned, and is in the advanced stages of its effects." Dailen remained silent, his eyes darting back and forth between the three men.

"Know you the agent used?" Teagan asked.

"No, my Lord," replied Anders. "I would need to take a sample of blood from your brother to determine that, and even then, the best I could give you would be a guess."

"Well, Dailen?" Teagan said sharply, "have_ you _anything to add? Two independent mages have now diagnosed poisoning, something you, a purported Spirit Healer, failed to notice!"

"He's roughly the same age as me," Anders observed. "I don't remember him being at the Tower."

"So where _are_ you from, Dailen?" Teagan demanded, moving toward the mage, "if that is even your real name?"

Teagan and Anders were taken by surprise as Dailen grabbed his staff and thrust it into the air, stunning them both with a Mind Blast. Cullen, who was out of range of the spell, tackled the mage to the ground as he ran out of the room. They grappled on the floor, Dailen's every attempt to cast a spell thwarted by Cullen's dispel abilities.

"You're a Templar?" Dailen cried in frustration, before disabling Cullen with a knee to the groin. "Dispel _that, _you bastard!"

Cullen collapsed on top of him, cursing and yelling in agony, as Dailen wriggled free and crawled along the floor before standing up and running. Cullen, in severe pain but determined not to let him get away, struggled up onto his knees and flung his arms outwards in Dailen's direction, palms up. A blinding flash of white light hit the floor, sending Dailen flying several feet into the air, hitting the wall, and sliding down into a useless heap on the ground.

Cullen collapsed onto all fours and grimaced, panting heavily, as Teagan and Anders emerged, the stun effect having worn off. Teagan went to fetch some of his guards as Anders knelt down next to Cullen.

"What did he do to you, Cullen?" he asked with concern.

"Knee to the groin," he replied in between shaky breaths.

"Oh," replied Anders. "Sorry. Look…I _could _heal you, but I would have to…touch the area. Not bare skin, mind you," he added hastily. "I could do it through your breeches."

"Just do it, Anders," Cullen groaned, collapsing onto his back.

Anders placed his hands over Cullen's groin and healed him as quickly as he could. He removed his hands just before Teagan and his guards returned.

"Take him to the dungeon," Teagan commanded his guards. "When he wakes, he's to be questioned."

"Yes, my Lord," replied the guards as they dragged Dailen's limp body away.

"Are you alright, Ser Cullen?" Teagan asked as he knelt down next to the two men.

"Yes, my Lord, I am now, thank you," he replied as he sat up, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Good," replied Teagan. "I am most grateful for your Templar skills. He would certainly have escaped, were it not for you. When you have recovered, I should like to have both of you in attendance while Dailen is questioned."

"If I may, my Lord?" offered Anders, "I can be quite…_persuasive_ myself. I think I could get him to talk in minutes, without torture or intimidation being used."

"Indeed?" Teagan grinned. "I look forward to seeing this."

O~~~~~~~~~O

Dailen sat in the cell previously occupied by Anders and Cullen. He still felt weak and dizzy from Cullen's Holy Smite, and had trouble focusing his eyes. Four men walked in and stood in front of the cell. As his eyesight resolved, he flinched, as the first man he saw was Cullen.

"Yes," said Teagan. "Try anything like that again, and my Templar friend here will deal with you in the same way. I suggest you start talking."

"I have nothing to say to you," Dailen replied, folding his arms. "I will only speak to Arlessa Isolde."

"No, you will speak to _me_," said Anders, moving closer to the cell.

"If you think I'll talk to _you_, you're very much…" Dailen began, before catching Anders' eye. "Yes, I will talk to you," he said in a monotone, his eyes wide.

Teagan gasped and looked at Cullen in astonishment. Cullen offered a lop-sided grin.

"Who are you?" Anders demanded. "Where are you from?"

"My name is Dailen," he replied. "I am an apostate hailing from Tevinter. Arlessa Isolde hired me."

"Hired you for what?" asked Anders.

"To poison the Arl," came the reply.

"What?" cried Teagan. "Are you suggesting that Isolde was involved in this?"

"I'm sorry, Bann Teagan," said Anders. "He's telling the truth. I have him under a charm spell. He has no choice but to speak the truth. He has no control over himself."

Teagan closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, before opening them and speaking to the Knight who had accompanied them. "I want her found immediately," he ordered. "Take her into custody and confine her to her chambers under heavy guard. Say nothing of this matter to anyone, is that understood?"

"Completely, my Lord," the Knight replied, bowing, before exiting at speed.

Cullen and Anders looked at Teagan with concern. He nodded at both of them and instructed Anders to proceed.

"Why did she want the Arl poisoned?" Anders asked.

"Arl Eamon discovered that Connor is a mage," Dailen replied. "He demanded that the boy be sent to the Circle Tower for tutoring. He also threatened to divorce the Arlessa, as this is not the first deceptive thing she's done since marrying him. Faced with losing her son, as well as her privileged lifestyle, she took desperate measures."

"And you, a supposed healer, were quite happy to go along with this?" Anders cried in disbelief. "You're supposed to cure people, not make them ill! How could you do such a thing?"

"Look," said Dailen. I'm an apostate, hiding from the Chantry. The Arlessa paid me well and put a roof over my head. I would have been on the streets otherwise."

"Oh, that makes it alright then, doesn't it!" Anders snapped. "You're a disgrace!"

"What is to be done with him?" Cullen asked Teagan.

"He will remain here, until Eamon recovers," Teagan replied. "_If_ he recovers, that is…"

"I could ward his cell to prevent him from casting spells," said Cullen, "if only I had another Templar to help me."

"There are Templars in the Chantry," replied Teagan, to which Cullen shook his head. "Wait!" he smiled. "Of course! There is a third Warden here, who is also a Templar. He is recovering from an injury at the moment, but may now be well enough to return here with you. I will take you to him."

"May I assist with his injury?" Anders enquired.

"Thank you, but no," Teagan replied. "He lost a large amount of blood whilst defending the village, and Warden Amell saved his life. She said there was nothing more she could do for him. He is recovering well, though."

"Ah," said Anders. "In that case, I'll remain here and keep him under the spell until you return."

"Thank you, indeed," replied Teagan. "Come, Ser Cullen. Put on your helm and we shall go to the Chantry."

O~~~~~~~~~O

Alistair sat on the edge of his bed, tucking into a huge dinner of roast beef, mashed potatoes, vegetables and gravy, much of which had ended up down his shirt. A knock came at the door.

"Come in!" he said with his mouth full, wiping his chin.

Teagan entered with a red haired man, who, upon seeing Alistair, immediately broke into a grin and shook his head. "I don't believe it!" he exclaimed.

"Whaaa?" Alistair cried, gulping down his food. "Sebastian? What are you doing here, you ginger bastard!" he laughed.

Teagan grinned as the two men shook hands and Cullen leaned down to embrace Alistair. "I had no idea the two of you were acquainted!" he said.

"Acquainted?" replied Alistair. "This man kept me sane through Templar training at the Chantry! Well, partially sane. Well…sometimes. Maybe." The two Templars laughed. "And to think," Alistair continued, "shy little Sebastian, who couldn't even look a girl in the eye before, ends up with Blythe Amell. Who'd have thought it?"

"She mentioned me?" asked Cullen in surprise.

"Mentioned you?" grinned Alistair. "Only about every five minutes! The woman's madly in love with you," he chuckled as he shovelled more food into his mouth.

Teagan, realising that Cullen was the object of Blythe's affections, excused himself. "I will leave the two of you to catch up, while I deal with that…other matter. Ser Cullen, I shall return for you shortly, to ensure none of the Templars bother you."

"Thank you, my Lord," replied Cullen as Teagan exited and closed the door behind him.

Teagan leaned against the door and exhaled heavily. He collected himself and entered the main Chantry hall, to be met by two Knights running towards him.

"My Lord!" cried one of the Knights. "We have searched the entire Castle, and Arlessa Isolde is nowhere to be found, and neither is Connor. The female mage – the one who travels with the Wardens and was with Connor – was found unconscious on the floor in his room. She is only just reviving now."

"You mean Morrigan? Take me to her!" Teagan commanded and the three men broke into a run as they exited the Chantry.

O~~~~~~~~~O

Sten, Zevran and the two Wardens made camp just over halfway to the Tower. Blythe sat down next to Allis beside the fire, as they both looked into the distance at their former home, silhouetted against the greys and oranges of the sky as the sun set.

"Allis?" Blythe wondered as a line formed between her eyes, "shouldn't there be some lights on in the Tower? It's in complete darkness."

"Maybe they haven't been lit yet," Allis replied absent-mindedly as he poked the fire.

"But the sun has almost gone down," she protested, "and you know what the Templars are like for routine. The lamps should have been lit by now."

Allis looked up once more. "You know, you're right," he replied. "Well," he shrugged, "perhaps Greagoir is still so furious that you were made a Grey Warden, he hasn't gotten round to putting the lamps on yet!" They laughed, but their mirth hid a seed of unease within them both.

"So, um…how are things between you and Bann Teagan?" Allis whispered, changing the subject. "I think he has a soft spot for you."

Blythe sighed and looked into the fire. "Bann Teagan is a wonderful man," she replied, "and under any other circumstances…but I can't think of romance at the moment. We have the Blight to deal with…"

"Come on, Blythe!" Allis scoffed. "That's not the real reason, and you know it."

"And as you know so much about me, why don't you _tell_ me the real reason?" she snapped, irritated that he could see through her so easily.

"Alright," Allis retorted, "you can't keep moping over Cullen forever, you know. The two of you wouldn't have had a chance at the Tower, anyway, and you can't be together now. You need to move on, Blythe."

"Oh, do I?" she said angrily.

"Yes," he sighed. "I just want you to be happy, that's all. And you're obviously not at the moment."

Blythe stood up. "And you think that dragging me to the Tower against my wishes will make me happy?" she stormed. "You think _that _will help me to _move on_?"

"I'm sorry," Allis said quietly. "That was selfish and thoughtless of me."

"I…" began Blythe, feeling angry but not wanting to say anything hurtful to Allis. "Go to bed, Allis," she said. "I'll take first watch."

"But Zevran was taking first watch with me," Allis protested.

"So?" she replied, feeling her anger build again. She knew that Allis was trying to keep she and Zevran separate, and it annoyed her immensely.

"Alright," he said, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender, and got to his feet. "Call me in three hours. Goodnight, Blythe."

She felt a familiar sting at the back of her throat as she watched him walk away. _No! _she thought. _No more crying! _The tears came anyway, and she dashed them away angrily and walked over to the Lake, sitting down next to the black water and letting it lap at her feet.

Zevran and Sten had watched the angry exchange from a distance, but had not heard what had been said. "I will retire now," said Sten, walking over to Zevran and fixing him with a cold stare. "I am a very light sleeper," he warned, and headed over to his tent.

"Goodnight and sweet dreams to you, dear friend!" Zevran called mockingly. Sten cast one last evil glare in Zevran's direction before entering his tent.

The elf watched Blythe for a while, uncharacteristically unsure of himself. He eventually decided he would risk her wrath for the small chance of making her smile. He walked over and sat next to the shore, keeping a discreet distance from her. She looked over and smiled faintly at him, before returning her gaze to the Lake.

Zevran leaned back on his elbows and sighed. "She sings such a beautiful and haunting melody, does she not?" he remarked.

"Who?" asked Blythe, confused.

"Shh," he said, placing a finger to his lips. "Listen."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Blythe strained to listen, then she heard it: The mournful sound of the wind howling around the Lake and the distant Tower.

"Yes, I can hear it!" she whispered, a look of wonder in her eyes. "It _is _like a song!"

"Her song lulls me to sleep each night," he smiled. "I have trained myself to ignore other sounds; people, _dogs_," he chuckled. "Why should I listen to such things when nature herself provides such a beautiful symphony?"

Blythe turned toward him, touched by his words. "I-I had no idea you thought of things in such a way, Zevran," she murmured.

"Well, my dear," he replied, "my lifestyle and line of work are inherently ugly. If I did not take the time to appreciate the gentler side of life, I should have gone insane long before now."

"Why do you do it, Zev?" she asked quietly.

"Ah," he sighed. "Well, I was raised in an Antivan whorehouse, then sold to the Crows as a young boy. I fetched a good price, from what I am told – three sovereigns. I was trained by the Crows, who became my brothers. I did not know any different. The Crows were my life."

"I don't know what to say," she whispered. "I…you must have had a very hard life."

"Oh, don't get me wrong," he smiled. "There have been moments of levity and joy, also." He shook his head. "Let us not speak of such things now. I see that you are shivering, my dear. Let us return to the fire."

He stood up and held his hand out to Blythe, who took it, and pulled her up. Still holding her hand, he walked her over to the fire, where they sat down. Blythe rubbed her arms and noticed that Zevran was shivering, too.

"I'll cast a heat enchantment on us both," she said, reaching over to touch Zevran's arm.

"No, my dear," he said, shaking his head. "We shall do this the old-fashioned way." He stood up and walked over to his tent, leaving Blythe to look on, baffled. He emerged a few moments later with two blankets, and sat close to Blythe, draping the blankets over their shoulders.

_You need to move on._

Blythe wrapped her arm around Zevran's waist and lay her head on his shoulder as they cuddled. Zev exhaled deeply and planted a soft kiss against her hair, and, together, they gazed into the firelight and appreciated its simple beauty.


	17. An inauspicious homecoming

**Hi and thank you to all of my regular reviewers, you are all the best and keep me going! xx And hi to my latest reviewer, Lord Archeron!**

**And thank you to my wonderful friend, Jen, for another first-class edit! xx**

O~~~~~~~~~O

Sten, Zevran and the two Wardens reached the north-western shore of Lake Calenhad mid-morning. They stood outside the Spoiled Princess inn, looking across the Lake toward the Circle Tower. Blythe and Allis had observed it from a distance during the night; it had remained shrouded in darkness. They knew now that something was seriously amiss.

"Good day to you all," a voice from behind them spoke. The group turned around to face a lean, dark-haired man wearing leather armour. Although he didn't look like a mage, Allis and Blythe could sense his magic.

"If you're looking to get to the Tower," he continued, "you'll have to get past that clown Carroll, first," he said, pointing toward the lone Templar by the jetty.

"Who are you, Ser?" asked Allis.

"The name's Davlamin, or Dav for short," he replied, shaking hands with each of the group. "I'm a merchant. I trade from outside the inn, and as such, I get to hear of all kinds of goings-on from the Tower."

"Dav?" said Blythe, grinning slyly. "You're Anders' friend, aren't you?"

"Anders?" Dav replied, looking around, before winking at Blythe. "Never heard of him, I'm afraid. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"Blythe Amell," she replied, introducing each of her companions in turn.

"Blythe?" Dav repeated with wide eyes. "Aren't you a Grey Warden?"

"Yes!" she replied. "How did you…?"

Dav grasped Blythe's arm and led her away. "Excuse us for a moment, gentlemen," he said to Sten and the two elves. They watched as Blythe and Dav had a very intense discussion. Allis' brow furrowed as he saw Blythe's mouth fall open and her eyes widen; her arms dangling limply at her sides.

She beckoned Allis over. "What's wrong?" he asked sharply.

Blythe took several deep breaths before answering. "Anders and Cullen left the Tower over two weeks ago," she said quietly, looking at Allis without really seeing him.

"Cullen?" Allis asked incredulously.

"He helped Anders to escape," Dav said helpfully. "They left here just over nine days ago. They haven't been brought back, so I assume they haven't been caught."

"They think we're dead, Allis," Blythe said, her voice breaking. "They think we died at Ostagar. We have to let them know we're alive somehow!"

"But how, my darling?" Allis said gently, stroking her arm. "We have no idea where they are."

"I know they were heading for Lothering when they left here," said Dav, "but whether they're still there, or they moved on, I can't say."

Blythe began to weep. "The darkspawn will have reached Lothering by now!" she sobbed. "What if…?" Allis wrapped his arms around her and sighed heavily. _So much for her moving on_, he thought, feeling bitter sadness for Blythe, as well as his own sense of regret as he fondly remembered Anders.

"Look, Blythe," he said as cheerfully as he could manage, "they would have reached Lothering over a week ago. They wouldn't have been able to hang around because of the Templar presence there. They probably moved on."

Blythe thought about this for a moment. "That means they were only just behind us," she said, her eyes darting from side to side as her mind raced. "You don't think…you don't think Cullen came looking for me, do you? Why else would he help Anders to escape and leave the Tower?"

"Oh, I don't know, Blythe…" Allis sighed. Although it sounded a plausible explanation to him, he didn't want to get her hopes up. Dav, although he had heard from Anders that Cullen was in love with her, remained silent for the same reason.

"Listen," Allis continued, "when we return to Redcliffe, we'll make enquiries. Bann Teagan is sure to have contacts all over the Bannorn. We'll see what we can find out, alright? I promise we'll do everything we can, Blythe. Let's just get this trip to the Tower out of the way. We shouldn't be in there for long. Greagoir will tell us to piss off, we'll wave the treaties in front of him and order him around, then leave. How does that sound?"

Blythe took a deep breath and managed a smile. "We get to order Greagoir around?" she asked, wiping her tears away.

"Absolutely," Allis replied with a grin.

"Actually, you may encounter problems," Dav sighed, "if you can even get into the Tower."

"We knew something was wrong," replied Allis. "What's happened?"

"I can't say for sure," Dav replied, "but it's something serious. Only three people have been allowed into the Tower over the past nine days; all of them Templars. Not one person has left, except for Carroll's relief at night. Cullen believed that Greagoir has invoked the Rite of Annulment. A message was sent to Denerim a week ago. It won't be long before reinforcements arrive."

Allis and Blythe looked at one another, the colour draining from their faces. "We have to get over there!" cried Allis, grabbing Blythe's hand and calling Sten and Zevran over as they headed for the jetty. "Thank you for your help!" he called to Dav.

Ser Carroll saw them approach, and immediately held his hand up for them to halt.

"We don't have time for this, Carroll," Allis hissed. "Either take us across or get out of our way."

"Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?" Carroll replied indignantly, folding his arms and blocking their way. "Nobody is allowed into the Tower, by order of Knight-Commander Greagoir."

"We're Grey Wardens," Allis said impatiently. "Greagoir is obliged to give us an audience."

"Grey Wardens?" Carroll scoffed. "Prove it!"

"We don't have to prove anything to you!" Blythe exclaimed angrily. Both she and Allis were distressed at Dav's news, and were in no mood for games.

"Oh!" Carroll replied pretentiously. "Not good enough for you, am I? Well, until you prove you are who you say you are, you're not going anywhere!"

"You always were a idiot, Carroll," Allis seethed. "Don't become a dead one."

Carroll laughed. "And what chance do you think you two mages have against a Templar, eh?" he said cockily, reaching for his sword.

"I am no mage," Sten boomed, stepping forward. "You may test your mettle against me, if you wish, but as you appear to be armed with naught but foolishness, I would not recommend it."

"Now take us across, you witless imbecile," Zevran added haughtily.

"Erm…alright, I suppose I _could_ make an exception," Carroll gulped. "Come along, then," he said, glancing nervously at Sten, as he led them to the boat.

Dav watched from outside the inn with a huge grin on his face. _Well done, my friends!_ he thought. _Give that bastard Greagoir what for!_

O~~~~~~~~~O

Allis, Blythe and their two companions disembarked as the boat reached the Circle Tower. They walked away without a word to Carroll. "Hey!" the Templar called, "don't I get so much as a 'thank you?'"

"No," laughed Zevran. "You get this, instead," he replied, raising his middle finger.

"Well, I never!" Carroll exclaimed, outraged, as the group reached the main entrance to the Tower.

They looked up at the imposing metal door. "What, no pull cord?" asked Zevran. "How shall we gain entry?"

Sten leaned over and banged the door five times with his fist. After a moment, the sound of latches being clicked and metal scraping against metal could be heard. The doors were eventually opened, with great effort, by four Templars.

"Time to put our 'arrogant hats' on, Blythe," Allis whispered.

"I can do that," she smiled grimly.

"That wasn't a standard Templar knock," said one of the Templars. "Wait…who are you?"

"Out of our way," said Allis, barging past them. "We're here to see Greagoir."

"Hey!" cried the Templar. "You can't just walk in here unannounced…!"

"What is the meaning of this?" barked Greagoir, as he walked over to them. "How did you…_you!_" he spat, spotting Blythe. "How in the Maker's name did you get past Carroll?"

"Oh, it wasn't difficult, Greagoir," she replied insolently, putting her hands on her hips. "The man's a simpleton. Trained by you, no doubt."

"How _dare _you stroll in here and insult my men!" Greagoir snapped. "What do you want?"

"We are here to invoke the Grey Warden treaties, Greagoir," Allis said calmly. "You are obliged to provide us with aid during a Blight."

"And I demand to know why you have invoked the Rite of Annulment," said Blythe.

Greagoir's eyes darted between the two mages, not knowing who to be more outraged with. He turned to Blythe. "And just how do _you _know about that? Did your _lover _tell you?" he spat venomously.

Zevran raised an eyebrow. _Lover? _he thought.

"My _what_?" replied Blythe, feigning confusion.

"Do not play innocent with me, Amell!" Greagoir retorted. "You know of whom I speak!"

"That's _Warden _Amell to you, Greagoir!" she snapped.

"And it is _Knight-Commander_ Greagoir to _you_!" he bit back.

"Enough of this banter," Allis said dryly. "Just tell us what's going on at the Tower, Greagoir, and give us your pledge to aid us. Then we'll be on our way. You'll never have to see us again; something I think we would all be happy with."

Greagoir massaged his temples and paced back and forth. "I cannot give you the aid you seek as things stand," he said, sounding troubled. Allis and Blythe exchanged glances.

"I shall speak plainly," he continued. "We are no longer in control of the Tower. Demons and abominations stalk the corridors. The inner door has been barred to prevent their escape."

"And just how did that happen?" Allis asked incredulously. "Isn't that what the Templars are supposed to _prevent_ from happening?"

"We were unprepared for the sheer number of abominations which emerged," Greagoir replied without malice. "I had no choice but to bar the doors."

Blythe walked over to the inner door. "You mean you locked everyone in there?" she exclaimed, "including innocent mages?"

"Not only mages, but my own men as well," Greagoir replied sadly. "We are awaiting reinforcements from Denerim."

"But they'll kill every mage in there!" Allis cried.

"I have no choice in the matter," said Greagoir. "It is my duty to prevent abominations from escaping the Tower."

Allis and Blythe looked at one another, silently agreeing on a course of action. "Let us try, Greagoir," said Blythe.

"I cannot allow the two of you to enter alone," Greagoir replied, shaking his head. "It is too dangerous."

"There are four of us," Allis replied. "And this was once our home. You have to let us try."

"This is a fool's errand," muttered Sten. "There are no darkspawn here. I refuse to be a part of this."

"I've already told you," Allis replied irritably. "Go and find the Archdemon on your own, if you like!" He turned toward Greagoir. "Let us in, Greagoir. If there is a chance of saving anyone - including the Templars – before the reinforcements arrive, you must let us try!"

"You are not fit to lead us!" Sten bellowed, advancing toward Allis and drawing his sword. "I am taking command! If you resist, I will slay you!"

"You would attack an elven mage, Sten?" yelled Blythe, panicking. "You're nothing but a coward!"

"The elf is prepared to risk sending two Grey Wardens into a Tower full of demons!" Sten replied. "There are only three of you in the whole of this land! He is not fit to be our leader!" He turned toward Allis. "Defend yourself, elf!"

"Stand back!" Allis called. "And none of your dispelling crap!" he said to the Templars.

Sten advanced toward Allis, swinging his sword wildly, but Allis, having the advantage of speed, ducked and rolled behind Sten, hitting him on the back with a bolt of electrical energy, sending the Qunari off-balance for a second. Quickly recovering, Sten raised his sword and brought it crashing down; Allis barely dodging the blow.

"Sten!" Allis yelled, getting to his feet. "Don't make me kill you! You know I can do it!"

"Do your worst, _saarebas_!" the Qunari bellowed, once again swinging his sword wildly, this time catching Allis on the shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Blythe lurched forward, but Zevran grabbed her arms and shook his head.

"You bastard!" Allis yelled, and as Sten raised his sword, preparing to end the fight, Allis thrust his arms toward him, unleashing several forks of violent lightning. Sten staggered back, dropping his sword, before crashing to the floor, his massive body quivering.

Blythe ran over to Allis. "Are you alright?" she asked, placing her hands on his shoulder and healing it.

Allis nodded, trying to catch his breath. "Is he alive?" he asked Zevran, who was prodding the Qunari's chest with his finger.

"Hard to say," quipped Zevran. "He is not the most animated of people at the best of times…" then, noticing the look of irritation on Allis' face, shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, he lives."

After a few moments, Sten opened his eyes and tried to focus. Two very angry mages and an amused elf looked down at him. "You needn't think I'm healing _you_!" Blythe exclaimed petulantly.

Sten struggled to his feet and wavered a little as he stood up. Allis walked up to him, hoping he appeared braver than he felt. "Now, fall into line!" he snarled, "and _never _question my authority again, or next time I _will _kill you!"

"As you wish, Warden," Sten said simply with a curt nod of his head, and retrieved his sword from the floor.

"Now let us in, Greagoir," Allis demanded. "Enough time has been wasted."

"Very well," replied Greagoir, nodding to the Templar manning the inner door. "But be warned – once you are through that door, it will be locked behind you. I will not open it again until First Enchanter Irving himself tells me it is safe to do so."

"And if Irving is dead?" asked Allis.

"Then I shall have to take your word for it," he replied. "May Andraste guide you."

O~~~~~~~~~O

Teagan and his Knights reached Connor's bedroom to find Morrigan sitting on his bed, clutching her head.

"Morrigan?" Teagan asked. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"That wretched woman blindsided me!" she replied, outraged. "She came behind me and struck me with something, then took the demon child with her."

Teagan turned to his Knights. "Go to the Chantry and take Alistair and Cullen to the dungeon," he instructed. "Then, send Anders up here to tend to Morrigan."

"Do not waste time on _me_!" Morrigan snapped. "You _must_ find the child! His mother will not get far. Before I lost consciousness I placed a hex on her which will drain her strength. The boy, alas, was too quick for me."

Leliana entered with Reaper. "I've found him, Morrigan," she said breathlessly. "My Lord," she said, turning to Teagan, "if you could provide us with an article of the Arlessa's clothing, or similar, Reaper will be able to track her down."

"At once!" cried one of the Knights, and ran to Isolde's room without needing to be told. He returned moments later bearing a shawl.

"She wears that shawl often," said Teagan to Leliana. "Will it suffice?"

"Let us see," she replied, holding it out for Reaper to sniff. The Mabari took a great interest in the shawl, before dropping his head to the ground, and he exited the room, sniffing as he went.

"Oh, what a clever boy you are!" trilled Leliana as they followed him. "He has picked up the trail!"

"Carry out my instructions," said Teagan to his Knights. "Have the two Templars brought to the dungeon and Anders up here to tend to Morrigan. Ensure that Cullen and Anders remain anonymous."

"Yes, my Lord!" the Knights replied and set off towards the Chantry, as Teagan and Leliana followed Reaper.

O~~~~~~~~~O

The inner doors thundered closed, a noise which reverberated through the floor and the walls, immediately setting the group on edge; an inauspicious start to their journey through the Tower. Zevran and Sten hesitated for a moment, looking to the two mages to lead them.

The corridors and dormitories were poorly illuminated; only a handful of torches remained lit, all of which guttered and threatened to expire at any moment. As Allis and Blythe looked along the length of the first corridor, taking in the corpses of Templars and mages alike, they felt as though they had been sealed in their own tomb.

The two mages walked slowly and silently, looking dead ahead, doing their best not to look at the carpet of bodies lining the floor. They reasoned that if they didn't look at the bodies, they wouldn't know who was dead; but they _did_ know. This was the apprentices' floor, where their friends resided; Blythe's in particular, as she had only passed her Harrowing recently.

The question that had been on the tip of Zevran's tongue only moments ago was hushed, as he and Sten kept a respectful silence. Although to Sten the death of mages was of no great consequence, he recognised that an ill-advised comment at this time would invite reprisals at best; death at the worst.

"Give us a few minutes, will you?" Allis said quietly to Sten and Zevran. They nodded, Zevran spying Allis' arms wrapping around Blythe's trembling body as they exited and waited around the corner.

Zevran leaned heavily against a wall, experiencing the same sensation he'd felt at the Chantry in Redcliffe when he'd seen Blythe cry. An ugly churning in his belly. He'd felt it, as well, outside the Spoiled Princess inn, for the same reason. _Do I care for her? _he asked himself, and, when no satisfactory answer came, his mind turned to another disquieting thought. _Her lover_. The cantankerous Templar at the entrance had mentioned this, and at Redcliffe, Blythe had admitted to Teagan that her heart belonged to another man – someone she could not be with. _One of the two men who escaped? The mage and the Templar?_

Zevran closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he realised. _The Templar_._ Of course. They are not allowed to be together._ _I do not know whether to feel pity or hatred_ _for this man._ _And why __**would **__I feel hatred for him? Why?_

Sten watched in astonishment as the Assassin took off down the corridor, cursing and muttering to himself. He shook his head and immediately felt homesick; he did not understand the people and ways of Ferelden, and he did not want to, either, but he had to somehow accept that this was now his home. He had been parted from his soul and could never return to the Antaam.

"Don't look at the floor," Allis whispered, propping Blythe's head up with his hand, manoeuvring her to a part of the dormitory less cluttered with bodies. "It's alright," he soothed.

"I-I'm so confused," Blythe sobbed, her pretty features swollen and blotchy.

"Confused?" Allis asked, not understanding.

"I…did listen to what you said," she replied hesitantly, "about moving on…"

Allis shook his head. "No, don't think about that, now, Blythe," he whispered.

"I thought about it, and Zevran was so kind to me…" she began.

"Zevran?" Allis asked sharply.

"I-I…think he cares about me, Allis…but then I heard about Cullen being out there somewhere, maybe looking for me…" she started to sob again. "I don't know what to do!"

Allis held her hand. "Look, Blythe," he said gently, "all of this…"

He swept his arm around the room.

"…is making you feel fragile and unsure of yourself. Let's try and look for survivors and get out of here as quickly as we can, yes? Then you and I will have a proper talk, I promise." _That bastard! _he thought. _I __**knew **__he'd try to get round her!_

"I'm sorry, Allis," she mumbled. "I know we have more important things to do."

"Nothing is more important than you, Blythe," he grinned and stood on his tiptoes to kiss her. "I've come to care for you in such a short time, and I know we're going to be the best of friends."

"Oh, Allis…!" she started crying again, but was laughing this time, too.

"Erm, pardon me…"

Allis' head whipped round and he looked darkly at Zevran, who stood in the doorway. "What!" he snapped.

Zevran hesitated a moment at Allis' tone and then spoke quietly. "I…scouted ahead, and have found some mages up ahead," Zevran said. "Living ones."

"See?" Allis said, turning to Blythe. "Survivors. Let's go and see who's there, hmm?"

Blythe nodded and wiped her eyes. Allis took her hand and they exited the room, Allis beckoning Sten to follow them as they followed Zevran.

They walked into a large chamber which led to the basement and library. Approximately half a dozen mages and adult apprentices stood about, with several child apprentices standing further back. Allis and Blythe froze when they entered the room, staring ahead.

Allis walked toward one of the adults, with a look of unadulterated hatred in his eyes. He stood toe to toe with the apprentice. "What the _fuck _are _you_ doing here!" he yelled.


	18. The Devil in disguise

**Hi and thank you to my latest reviewers Kazzyb59 and cluaran! And no matter how many times I say it, I will always mean it: To my regular reviewers, I would have given this up long ago without your inspiration and kindness! Thank you!**

**And to my dear friend Jen, my biggest inspiration of all, words could never be enough to thank you! You're the greatest! :D And thank you for helping me decide what to do with Isolde!**

**O~~~~~~~~~O**

Teagan and Leliana walked behind Reaper as he skilfully followed Isolde's trail through the castle and out into the courtyard. There, the Mabari paused and looked toward the main gate, trying to catch currents on the air as he sniffed.

"Do you think they went through the gate, Reaper?" Leliana asked. Reaper cocked his head and made a low whine, before putting his nose to the ground once more and unexpectedly heading toward the entrance to the dungeons. Leliana shrugged at Teagan as they followed him down.

"I don't understand," Teagan said as they followed the scent trail through the bowels of the castle, "the easiest and fastest way out of here _would _be through the main gate." Reaper stopped and looked at Teagan, before approaching him and sitting at his feet.

"You may address Reaper as you would any person," Leliana explained. "He is Mabari and understands our speech. He is also as intelligent as, if not more so, than some people."

Teagan crouched down in front of the Mabari. "Forgive me, Reaper," he said, "but I have no experience of your fine species. I did not mean to speak as though you were not there." Reaper barked happily at this, and span round in a circle, before sitting once more.

"Do you suspect that our quarry has exited the Castle?" he asked, "but took an indirect route to do so?" Reaper barked several times in response to this.

"Of course…" Teagan realised. "The windmill! She must have exited through there!" Then his face fell and he shook his head. "No. Ser Perth and his Knights would be there when she exited – she must know that…"

Reaper barked several times again, this time with a hint of annoyance. "Do you disagree?" Teagan asked, grasping his chin with his hand and thinking carefully. "There is another secret exit from the dungeons," he said, "which leads underground to the Chantry. Could she have taken that route?"

Reaper barked once more, and paced back and forth, eager to resume his search. Teagan nodded his head. "Well done indeed, my friend," he replied. "Please, lead on."

Reaper resumed his tracking, then stopped and sniffed the air. His tail started wagging furiously, and he bounded forward, turning a corner. Teagan and Leliana heard two surprised exclamations, then laughter.

Alistair and Cullen walked round the corner, chuckling, as Reaper danced at their feet. "We thought we could hear voices," Alistair said, laughing, "and barking! We've warded the prisoner's cell. He won't cause any trouble now."

"Oh, Alistair!" cried Leliana, taking his hands. "It is good to see you looking so well! And who is your friend?"

"Cullen, my lady," Cullen replied with a small bow. "Oh, forgive me," he said, removing his helm. "I sometimes forget I'm wearing this."

"Yes," said Leliana, nodding her head and beaming at him. "You _are _as handsome as she claims!"

"I-I…me?" he replied, turning red. "Do you mean…Blythe?"

"Of course!" Leliana replied with a wink. "Who else would I mean? And you are so adorable with it!" she trilled. Cullen cleared his throat and grinned.

"Gentlemen," said Teagan, "have you been appraised of the situation with Isolde?"

"Yes," Alistair said firmly, his expression sour. "I can't _believe_ that even _she_…"

"Well," Teagan interrupted, "we believe we know her whereabouts, thanks to our Mabari friend here. I should like you both to accompany us, if you feel well enough, Alistair?"

"Just try and stop me," Alistair replied darkly. "Where is the bitch?"

"We believe she has taken refuge in the Chantry," Teagan replied.

"Put your helm back on, Sebastian," Alistair instructed Cullen. "Let's go, Reaper."

O~~~~~~~~O

Allis stared fixedly at the apprentice in front of him, who could not meet his gaze. "Well?" Allis spat, "I'm waiting!"

"Allis," a soft female voice spoke. "We released him from his cell. He would have starved to death, otherwise."

Allis turned to face Wynne, a senior mage of the Circle. "You do know he's a blood mage, don't you Wynne? And he can't be trusted! He tried to kill Blythe!"

"No, I didn't!" Jowan protested. "I would never have hurt anyone…seriously, especially not Blythe! I was just trying to defend myself! Blythe would have killed _me_!"

"And can you blame her?" Allis replied angrily, "after everything you did?"

"Please Allis, the children are frightened enough," Wynne said softly.

"Sorry," Allis replied, lowering his voice. "I'm sorry."

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Why did Greagoir allow you in?"

"He's sent for reinforcements from Denerim," Allis explained. "We persuaded him to let us in to look for survivors."

"So it is true, then," Wynne said sadly. "He means to destroy us." She paced back and forth. "It is good to see that at least you still care about the Circle's fate. And you, Blythe. It is good to see you again."

"You too, Wynne," replied Blythe, who could not bring herself to look at Jowan. "Do you know what's happened here, Wynne?" she asked.

Wynne shook her head, a look of disgust on her face. "It is Uldred," she muttered. "He has seized control of the Tower and ensconced himself in the Harrowing chamber. I know not what manner of magic he is using, but he has taken innocent mages and Templars alike, and turned them into…" she fell silent and shook her head once more.

"Uldred?" Blythe whispered to Allis, "Anders suspected him of being a blood mage."

"Wonderful," Allis muttered.

"I have erected a force field to keep the abominations from entering here and harming the children," said Wynne, pointing to the doorway ahead of them, "but perhaps now we have the numbers to take the fight to Uldred. I will go with you."

"No, Wynne!" cried one of the adult female mages, stepping forward. "You are still injured from our last encounter with the abominations. You need to rest!"

"May I help?" asked Blythe, walking up to Wynne.

"No, my dear," Wynne replied. "It is not the kind of injury that can be cured with healing magic. But thank you, all the same."

Blythe was about to ask for an explanation when Allis spoke. "No, Wynne, you should stay here with the children," he said, before turning to Jowan. "You're coming with us," he said firmly.

"W-what?" Jowan cried, taking a step back. "But I can't fight abominations! Wynne said I could stay here where it's safe!"

Allis walked up to Jowan once more and whispered in his ear so the children would not hear. "Listen, you snivelling wretch! Either the abominations will kill you, or _I _will. It matters little to me. Now shut your stupid, whining mouth and get moving!"

"Allis?" Blythe called. He walked over to where she stood. "Is it really a good idea to take him with us?" she asked quietly.

"Probably not," he replied, "but I'm not leaving him here with the children. I don't trust him as far as I could throw him, and I want him where I can see him. Are you going to be alright with that?"

Blythe nodded. "I suppose so," she shrugged. "Yes, I can see your point. And maybe he can do some good for once."

"Maybe," Allis replied. "We'll see." He walked over to Wynne. "Will you remove the force field so we can enter, Wynne?" he asked the older woman.

"Very well," she replied, walking over to the door and closing her eyes. The field of crackling blue energy that had blocked the exit disappeared. "Move quickly," said Wynne. "I will re-establish the field once you are through."

Allis, Blythe, Sten and Zevran walked through the doorway. Allis, realising that Jowan had not followed them, walked back, grabbed Jowan's arm and roughly shoved him through. Wynne then re-established the force field.

"May Andraste guide and protect you," she said to the group.

As they rounded a corner, Blythe spoke. "You three go on ahead," she said to Allis, Sten and Jowan. "I need to speak to Zevran for a moment."

Allis looked back and nodded once, before walking ahead with the other two.

Zevran clasped his hands in front of him and watched Blythe as she looked at the floor. He had an idea of what was to come.

"Zevran," she said apologetically, looking into his eyes. "You and I have become…close recently, haven't we?. Well, that's how I see it, anyway." She sighed and looked at the ceiling. "I, um…need to tell you something. Before I left the Tower, I was…I was in love with someone who lived here. When I left, I thought I'd never see him again, and I've been trying to come to terms with that, and move on.

But I found out that he's left the Tower, and that he may be looking for me." She sighed again. "I'm sorry, Zev, but while there's a chance I might see him again, I can't…well, I just can't be with anyone else. I hope you understand. I'm truly sorry if I misled you."

Zevran grinned wryly and shrugged his shoulders. "No, you didn't, my dear," he sighed. "You did not mislead me. Perhaps it was I who had the wrong idea. It is better for this to be out in the open now, and I appreciate you telling me. Now, let us move on. I think perhaps the others need us to assist them, yes?"

"You're…really alright with this?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course, my dear," he lied, with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "Come, let us join the others."

O~~~~~~~~~~O

Reaper, Leliana and the three men reached a large, wooden door that had no discernible lock. Teagan adjusted the signet ring on his finger and inserted it into a small hole in the centre of the door. As he turned it, a click was heard.

"This is the secret entrance to the Chantry," he told the others, then crouched down to address Reaper. "Is she here, Reaper?" he asked.

Reaper began scratching frenetically at the base of the door; his tail, stiff and upright, was wagging furiously.

"There is our answer," Teagan said. "We should not all enter at once. Reaper, you shall come with me, and you as well, Ser Cullen. The Arlessa has not yet met you. Alistair, Leliana – wait here and listen. We may need your assistance in a while, but, for now, I do not want to alarm Isolde and force her into rash action. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Alistair and Leliana replied.

Teagan, Reaper and Cullen emerged through a hidden door to the rear of the Altar. The Chanters on either side were taken aback at their appearance, and for a moment almost lost their train of thought, before regaining their composure and continuing their recital of the Canticle of Silence.

Reaper immediately bounded over to a door set far back to the rear, and began clawing at it and whining.

"What is the meaning of this, Bann Teagan?" asked the Revered Mother, walking over to the two men.

"We are looking for Arlessa Isolde, Your Reverence," Teagan replied. "We believe her to be here in the Chantry."

"The Arlessa is indeed here," she replied angrily, "and I will not allow you, or any of your…_friends_ to see her. She has told me of your mistreatment of her and her poor sick child."

"What?" cried Teagan.

"Now, leave!" the Revered Mother demanded. "I am arranging safe passage for the two of them away from here. When Arl Eamon revives he shall no doubt be furious at your role in this, Teagan!"

"Now, just a minute!" Cullen interrupted, stepping forward. "I do not know what lies she has told you, but _she _is the one responsible for Eamon's illness! And as for her 'sick child', she obviously neglected to mention that the boy is possessed by a Desire Demon!"

The Revered Mother took a step back, her hands covering her mouth.

"It is true," said Teagan. "Isolde poisoned Arl Eamon and escaped when she was discovered. She is harbouring Connor, who is possessed by the Demon responsible for the undead creatures' appearance, and for all the deaths in the village. I demand that you turn her over to us!"

"I-I did not realise!" the Revered Mother replied, distressed. "They are through there," she said, pointing toward the door where Reaper stood.

Teagan and Cullen strode over to the door, Cullen drawing his sword as they neared. "Wait," said Teagan, "I do not wish the boy to come to harm."

"Neither do I, my Lord," he replied, "but we have to anticipate every contingency. I swear to you I will not harm the child unless I am left with no other choice."

"Very well," Teagan replied heavily.

Without warning, the door flew open, and Reaper was propelled through the air, landing heavily on his leg with a yelp. "No!" cried Leliana, as she and Alistair broke from cover and dragged the injured hound to safety. A scream came from within the room.

"Connor! No! What have you done with my baby!"

Several gasps and cries sounded from around the Chantry as a semi-naked, horned woman walked through the door and stood in a seductive pose, leering at Cullen as she stroked her body and moaned to herself.

"Your Reverence! Evacuate the Chantry!" Cullen commanded. The Revered Mother immediately began ushering the villagers towards the exit.

"Oh, how touching," the demon purred. "You wish for us to be alone, Cullen? And I thought you only had eyes for mages!"

Cullen outstretched one arm toward the demon as he began to chant. "Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light…"

The demon threw her head back and laughed. "Blythe is her name, isn't it?"

"…I shall weather the storm," he continued. "I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder."

Teagan, Alistair and Leliana gasped as the Demon was bathed in shadow for a second, then emerged as a perfect representation of Blythe, wearing a flimsy robe. She walked toward Cullen and looked up at him innocently. "You want me, don't you, Cullen?" she whispered. "I know you think about me. And you _touch_ yourself when you do, don't you…?"

"Maker," Cullen continued, "my enemies are abundant. Many are those who rise up against me. But my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against me."

"Touch me, Cullen," the demon said with Blythe's voice, dropping her robe to the floor, revealing her naked body. "Do what you have always desired. Just say yes, and I can make all of these people disappear. Then, my love, we can finally be together."

Alistair, averting his eyes, walked up to Cullen and nodded to him. Together, they faced the demon and spoke in unison: "Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just…"

"Enough!" cried the Demon, reverting back to its original form as its spell was broken.

"…blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written."

"You think you two can defeat me?" the Demon hissed.

"By Andraste and all Divine after her, I banish you to the Fade!" Cullen commanded.

"No! I will not go back!" the Demon screeched.

"These truths the Maker has revealed to me," Cullen and Alistair continued, "As there is but one world, one life, one death; there is but one God, and He is our Maker. They are sinners, those who have given their love to false gods.

All men are the Work of our Maker's Hands, from the lowest slaves to the highest kings. Those who bring harm without provocation to the least of His children are hated and accursed by the Maker."

The demon screamed and clutched its head, before being bathed in light and replaced by a very confused and distressed Connor, who collapsed to the floor.

"Oh! My poor boy!" cried Isolde, running out of the room and kneeling on the floor next to Connor.

"Does he live?" Teagan asked.

"Yes my Lord," Cullen replied, "but the Demon is still within him. We have pacified it for now, but it will not last for long. The only sure way to be rid of it is to kill the boy or to confront the Demon in the Fade."

"Then let us pray that our friends are able to bring aid from the Circle of Magi," Teagan replied, before turning to some of his Knights who had remained behind. "One of you please bring Anders here to tend to Connor and Reaper."

"At once, my Lord!" one of the Knights replied, running toward the exit.

Teagan brought two of the Knights over to Isolde. "Take her to the dungeons and lock her up," he spat.

"Through the secret passage, my Lord?" one of them asked.

"No," Teagan replied firmly. "Take her through the village. Let everyone see her being taken away. And you may let the reason for it be known freely."

"Yes, my Lord," the Knights replied, and hauled Isolde up by her elbows.

"Please, Teagan!" Isolde implored as she struggled. "I was only trying to protect my boy!"

Teagan turned his back on her as she was led out through the doors of the Chantry to face the villagers' accusatory stares.

O~~~~~~~~~~O

Blythe yawned, stretched her arms lazily and opened her eyes. Although the sun was in the sky, and she knew she should rouse herself, her bed was far too warm and inviting, and she snuggled back down under the covers. She closed her eyes and exhaled contentedly. A warm hand touched her face and she sighed loudly as she felt the shifting of weight beside her. She opened her eyes and gazed up at her husband.

He lay beside her, leaning on his elbow, as his other hand stroked and played with her hair. "Good morning, beautiful," he whispered, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

"Good morning, handsome!" she replied happily; in fact she had never felt more happy and contented than at this moment.

The door to their bedroom burst open, and three small children ran in and jumped onto the bed; two girls and a boy. They all had their father's red hair and amber eyes.

"Now, now children," Cullen chided. "Let your mother have a rest. It's quite a handful looking after you three!"

_Children?_ Blythe thought. _I thought I couldn't have children. Who told me I couldn't? I'm sure there's a reason why, but I can't…think…_

"What's wrong, dear?" Cullen asked as he smiled at her. Blythe looked into his eyes and bolted up in bed, hastily pulling on her robe and standing up. Cullen's eyes narrowed as Blythe stared at him in confusion. "Leave us, children," he said. "We shall be out shortly."

"Awww…" the children whined as they climbed off the bed and left the room.

"What is it?" Cullen said sharply, then took a deep breath and softened his voice. "What is troubling you, dear wife?"

"What's happened to your eyes?" Blythe asked quietly.

"My _eyes_?" Cullen scoffed, an irritated tone in his voice.

"Your eyes are green," she replied. "They were green a moment ago…but your eyes are not supposed to be green…"

"Green?" he laughed. "Look at me. What colour are my eyes?"

She hesitantly looked at him. His eyes were dark amber. She cast her eyes down to the floor, unsure of herself.

"You've been overdoing things, my dear," he purred, walking over to her and stroking her face. "I know the children can be tiring at times."

"How did we have children, Cullen?" she asked.

"Would you like me to remind you?" he asked, placing a hand over her breast and kissing her neck.

"No," she replied, pushing him away. He glared at her. "I'm not supposed to have children," she said, trying to think of who had told her that, but her mind seemed to be pervaded by a thick fog. "There is a reason I can't have children, I just can't…remember."

"And yet there they are, in front of you," Cullen said irritably, pointing out of the window, where they played in the garden. "Do you doubt what you see with your own eyes?"

"I'm just not sure…" Blythe replied, shaking her head. "Something seems wrong. If we are married, why do I not remember our wedding day? The birth of our children? The first time we made love?"

"I can remind you of that, right now," Cullen said throatily, pushing her against the wall and kissing her hard, his hands running up and down her body.

"No…" Blythe moaned, breaking the kiss. "This isn't right. I'm supposed to be doing something…"

Cullen grabbed her hands and held them behind her back. "What you're _supposed_ to be doing is pleasing your husband," he said menacingly, before roughly kissing her neck and forcing his head underneath her robes, taking a nipple into his mouth.

"Stop it!" she cried.

Cullen brought his face up to hers and pushed her hard against the wall. "But this _is _what you want, isn't it, Blythe?" he growled, before smothering her mouth with his own.

"NO!" Blythe cried, freeing her hands and pushing him away. "Who are you? Cullen would never behave like that! Who are you ?" She looked down and realised she was wearing mages' robes, and her staff was on her back. Instantly, her mind seemed to clear.

Cullen advanced toward her. "Stay back!" she yelled, removing her staff and pointing it toward him.

"Foolish creature!" Cullen mocked, a deep, guttural voice accompanying his own. "I could have given you everything you've ever wanted, and this is how you repay me? Very well! If death is what you want, then death you shall have!"

The impostor moved over to the other side of the bed, retrieving his sword from beneath it, allowing Blythe to cast a Winter's Grasp spell at the Demon. It staggered a little, before advancing toward her. Blythe's heart raced as she realised her offensive magic was poor. She cast Paralyse at the impostor, which only served to slow its movements. She grabbed its arm as it swung its sword at her, but the Demon was too powerful for her and threw her roughly on to the bed.

It stood over her and gloated. "The good thing about assuming someone's form," the Demon said, "is that I gain their abilities, as well." It held its arms out toward her and smited her. She felt her mana ebb away, along with her strength. She could not even lift her head.

"And now," said the Demon, placing its sword to her throat, "let's end this charade, shall we?"


	19. Lost in dreams

**Thank you so much to everyone that takes the time to review, story alert or favourite! You're all wonderful!**

**CCBug - Massani rules! :P**

**To my angelic twin and fellow Massani cheerleader, Jen - you are the best and I love you to bits! xx**

O~~~~~~~~O

Blythe closed her eyes as she felt the sting of the sword at her throat and waited for death to come. Then she heard a cry and felt the sword drop onto her chest. She opened her eyes. The impostor stood before her twitching and writhing in agony as every muscle in its body began to spasm.

_Crushing Prison? _she thought, _but who…?_

"Blythe!" the demon cried, assuming Cullen's voice once more. "Help me, please! I love you!"

"Move aside, Blythe!" a distant voice called, just on the edge of her hearing.

"I can't," she croaked. "I've been smited."

She looked above into the sky. The house had disappeared, as had the bed, and she felt hard rock beneath her where she lay. She saw a blur of movement in her peripheral vision and felt the use of magic once more. Looking ahead, she saw the demon engulfed in flames, and heard Cullen's voice screaming as death claimed it.

Then, she felt arms lifting her into a sitting position and wearily turned her head. Allis sat beside her, his hands clutching her face as he looked deeply into her eyes. "Blythe? Can you see me?" he asked.

"Are you…real?" she mumbled. "Is that really you?"

"Yes, it's me, Blythe. Thank the Maker you're alright," Allis replied as he pulled her into an embrace. "Can you stand?" he asked as he pulled away.

"Just give me a minute," she replied, fumbling for a lyrium potion. Allis opened it for her and helped her to drink it. "What's going on, Allis?" she asked, hesitantly rising to her feet, "are we in the Fade?"

"Yes," he replied. "Do you remember? We reached the top of the Tower, where we encountered a Sloth Demon. It sent us here. We're all trapped in our own dreams."

"Yes, I remember now," she replied, her memory slowly returning to her. "Are the others alright?"

"I've found you and Sten so far," Allis said, his voice sounding quiet and distant. "I just need to find Zevran and Jowan, now."

"Allis?" Blythe cried, confused. "Allis? What's happening?" her vision grew dim and Allis seemed to fade away from her. "Where are you?"

Her vision returned and she looked around. The landscape appeared much the same as before - a series of barren, faceless rock formations - but Allis was gone. Sten stood next to her with a look of disdain on his face. "Sten!" she exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

"I am well, Warden," he replied as he looked around and snorted. "Another cage," he muttered, "this time of a mage's making." Blythe looked around more carefully. The rock formations rose up sharply on all sides, and were too sheer to climb. They were trapped within.

"Yes," she agreed. "I wonder why we are here. Is there no way out?"

"Do you think I would still be here, were that the case?" Sten replied irritably.

"No, I suppose not," she replied quietly. "Well, I'm glad to see you're alright, anyway, Sten. Do you need healing?"

"No," he replied abruptly, then, noticing Blythe's troubled demeanour, added, "thank you, all the same." Blythe smiled at him faintly, and they fell silent as they pondered their situation, and the dreams from which they had both been freed.

O~~~~~~~~O

"Blythe…!" Allis groaned as she disappeared, as had Sten, after Allis had freed the Qunari from his dream. Wherever they were, he prayed they were safe. Another glowing pedestal materialised in front of him. He drank a greater lyrium potion and reached out to touch it; as he did so, the landscape around him shifted. He stood atop a slope, at the bottom of which he could see Jowan, who appeared to be digging, although he held no shovel in his hands.

Allis descended the slope and approached Jowan, who looked up and wiped his brow. "Allis Surana?" he asked, "is that you? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, nothing much," Allis replied carefully, "I just thought I'd see what you were up to. How are you getting on?"

"I'm just preparing the ground for the new crop of potatoes," Jowan said proudly. "It's coming along rather nicely, I think. It is very thirsty work, though."

As if on cue, a woman with dark, braided hair appeared, carrying what appeared to be an invisible tray. _Lily_, Allis thought and shook his head, disgusted at the depths the demons were prepared to stoop to.

"Ah, here she is!" Jowan exclaimed, "my beautiful Lily! And she's brought tea! How thoughtful you are, my love." He took an invisible mug from Lily's tray and kissed her cheek, before turning back to Allis. "You'll stay for some tea, won't you, Allis?" he asked.

"Erm, yes, in a minute," Allis replied, "I just need to talk to you for a moment, first, Jowan. If you'll excuse us, Lily." Allis clutched Jowan's arm and led him a short distance away.

"What is it?" asked Jowan.

"Jowan," Allis said seriously, "do you remember what you were doing before you came here?"

"I don't understand," Jowan replied. "I've always been here. This is my home – mine and Lily's – and we have a small farmhold here."

"And how did you and Lily meet?" Allis asked.

"Well, we…" Jowan began, then hesitated. "I, um…I don't remember…isn't that the funniest thing? But it doesn't matter, does it? We're so happy, and everything is perfect!"

Allis sighed heavily, feeling like a complete bastard for what he was about to say. "You met Lily at the Circle of Magi. You are a mage, and she, a Chantry Initiate…"

"What are you talking about?" Jowan interrupted, anxiety apparent on his face.

"Listen to me, Jowan," Allis said firmly. "You were exposed as a blood mage. You attacked several Templars and fled the Tower. Lily was taken to…Aeonar."

"What?" cried Jowan, with a hitch in his voice. "B-but that can't _be_…Lily is here, and she's my wife! We're farmers!"

"No, she's _not_," Allis replied. "Lily is in the mages' prison. You _know _that to be true, Jowan. It must eat away at you. Whatever that is over there, it's _not_ Lily."

Jowan backed away from Allis. "I don't care!" he cried. "Lily is alive here, and for the first time in my life I'm happy!"

"It's not Lily, you fool!" Allis exclaimed, "it's a demon! In the physical world, your life is slowly being drained away! Once you are dead, you'll be stuck in the Fade for all eternity, and there will be no more Lily – the demon will be free to torment you and use you as its puppet! Is that really how you want to spend the rest of your days? Do you not want to do something worthwhile with your life first? Something laudable?"

"I-I can't," Jowan replied heavily. "I'm a coward, Allis, you know that! The thought of me doing something heroic or brave is just laughable."

"I think you underestimate yourself," Allis replied, not entirely convinced of his own words. "Come with me. We have a dangerous task ahead, I won't lie to you. Yes, we may die – but it's better to die for a worthy cause than as the thrall of a demon, and if we prevail, we will save the Tower. And," he added, "you won't be alone, Jowan."

Jowan wrung his hands and looked over towards Lily. "But…what about Lily?" he asked, "I mean, the demon."

"I will deal with the demon," Allis replied. "I suggest you turn away, Jowan. I would not want you to see this." He pointed to the top of the slope. "Wait for me up there."

Jowan nodded slowly, turned away, and started ascending the slope, only pausing when he heard raised voices, then an explosion. He turned around, appalled, when he heard Lily scream, and saw her lying at Allis' feet.

Allis ran toward him. "I told you to turn around, Jowan!" he cried. "Don't look! It's not Lily, remember!"

Jowan looked at Allis for a second, then at the floor. "She was the only person who ever told me they loved me," Jowan said quietly.

Allis looked at Jowan with pity. "Oh, Jowan…" he murmured, shaking his head.

"Wait!" cried Jowan, "where are you going? What's…"

Allis watched as Jowan faded away in front of him. He sat on the ground and put his head in his hands. _Am I doing the right thing? _he wondered. _Is this what I'm supposed to be doing? We may already be dead for all I know, and if we are, all I've done is take away the people they loved…_

He stood up as another pedestal appeared. _And now for Zevran_, he thought, shaking his head. _I may very well end up fighting him as well as the demon. _Feeling weighed down and exhausted, he walked toward the pedestal and touched it.

The landscape shifted once again; it consisted of the same rocky formations as every other dream, only in a different configuration. Allis spotted Zevran immediately; the first thing he noticed about the assassin was how blissfully happy he appeared to be. At his side stood a stunningly beautiful woman; she was elegantly dressed, with olive skin, luscious thick, black hair that cascaded down to her waist, and sultry brown eyes. The two of them held hands and whispered to one another.

As Allis approached, Zevran gently took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. Allis' shoulders sagged as he realised he would have to interrupt this tender moment. He cleared his throat. Zevran broke off the kiss and span round.

"You!" he exclaimed hatefully, "so, you have finally come to finish me off, have you? Well, I'd like to see you try!" he cried, unsheathing his sword and dagger.

"I haven't come to attack you, Zevran!" Allis yelled back, "I've come to free you!"

"Free me?" Zevran laughed derisively, "so now you are doing something _nice_ for Zevran? What is your game, eh? You _hate _me!"

"No, I don't, Zevran," Allis sighed. "I was just looking out for Blythe, that's all. She was vulnerable when she left the Tower, and I didn't want anyone taking advantage of her. I thought that's what you were trying to do. But I saw the way you reacted after she had spoken to you at the Tower. I think you do actually care for her."

Zevran, caught off-guard, lowered his weapons. "You _know _what we spoke of at the Tower?" he asked quietly.

"I have an idea," Allis replied, "and you didn't react in the way I thought you would. I really didn't think you'd care. I thought she was just another conquest to you."

"And so she was, when first I met her," Zevran sighed, "but that woman had a strange effect on me. I was actually interested in her opinions. When she laughed, my heart sang, and when she cried, it ached." He shook his head and grinned. "I have not felt anything like that since…" he looked over to the woman with the black hair, who smiled at him seductively.

"But," Zevran continued, "I know that she loves the Templar, perhaps in the same way I loved my Rinna…"

"Loved?" said Allis. "So you know she is not really here, then?"

"Of course," Zevran said heavily. "I mourned her death for too long to know that she can never return to me, except in the Fade. I see her there often when I sleep."

Allis closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm so sorry, Zevran, truly I am," he said softly, "but that is not Rinna who stands before us. I think you know that."

"Then, it is a spirit of some kind?" he asked.

"A demon," Allis replied.

Zevran closed his eyes and placed his hands over his face. "Let me take care of it," Allis offered.

"No," Zevran replied firmly, moving his hands to his weapons. "It should be me. If you were to kill her, then I truly would hate you, and I already hate…" he fell silent for a moment. "Leave us," he said to Allis.

"Are you sure about this, Zevran?" Allis asked.

"Go." Zevran replied. Allis nodded and retreated.

Zevran walked over to Rinna and spoke to her for a few moments, then stroked her face as he kissed her once more. Rinna's arms wrapped around his back, stroking down its length, then her hands tightly gripped the straps of his armour, before flailing at the air behind him. Her body went limp, and Zevran gently lowered her to the ground, removing his dagger from her throat. He stood there for a few moments before turning and heading toward Allis, his expression grim. The two elves walked together in silence.

O~~~~~~~~~~O

Blythe, Jowan and Sten stood within their prison of stone, none of them speaking; their hearts were heavy and their thoughts dark. They had been there for what seemed like an eternity, with no explanation. Neither did they know what had happened to Allis and Zevran.

Suddenly, the air shifted as the two elves materialised in front of them.

"Allis!" cried Blythe as she ran to embrace him, "thank the Maker you're safe!" Allis returned the embrace, then pulled away.

"Are _you _alright, Blythe?" he asked softly. She nodded her head quickly without meeting his gaze, and looked over toward Zevran. The assassin stared at some distant point straight ahead, his eyes like glass.

"Is Zevran alright?" Blythe whispered. Allis held up his hand and shook his head.

"Well, what have we here?" a voice spoke, its tone both unctuous and jarring.

The five companions span round to face a grotesque parody of a mage; it wore the same enchanter's arming cap as Allis, and the same Tevinter mage robes; however, the robes hung redundantly from its skeletal body, and its head was a grinning, horse-like skull. The demon floated several inches above the ground.

"A rebellious minion?" it asked again, speaking directly to Allis, "a restless child? Well, playtime is over, now. Go back to sleep, and we shall say no more of this matter." As it spoke, it raised a skeletal claw into the air, and once again the companions began to feel drowsy.

"No!" Allis cried fiercely. "You cannot defeat us! You tried to break us up, but we have found each other, and nothing you do or say will affect us again! Your hold over us is broken! Now, release us, or die!"

"But I only ever wanted to make you happy," the Sloth Demon replied sadly.

"We want nothing you have to offer, Demon!" Allis exclaimed determinedly.

"You, perhaps," the Demon replied, "but what about the others? I gave them what they had always dreamed of, and you took it away from them. How can you claim to be their friend?"

"Don't listen to it!" cried Blythe. "It's trying to charm you!"

"It will not charm me!" Sten bellowed, brandishing his sword. "This aberration created false images of my dead brothers in an attempt to dupe me! Did you really think you could fool a Qunari?"

"And that bastardisation of my Rinna?" Zevran said thickly, "for that, you will bleed, make no mistake!"

"You see, Demon?" Allis sneered, "you no longer have a hold over us! Now, pray to whatever pig God you revere, for these are your last moments!"

"Enough!" cried the Demon, its voice like broken glass in their ears, as it levitated several feet into the air, and began to move its arms in an elegant pattern, a glowing ball of energy forming between its hands.

"Blythe! Jowan! Stay back!" Allis commanded. "Protect him, Blythe! He's just an apprentice!"

A Fireball threw them to the ground, with the exception of Sten, who resisted, and ran toward the Demon, swinging upward with his sword; two skeletal feet fell to the ground.

"Fool!" mocked the Demon as it prepared another spell. Allis, rising to his feet, cast Cone of Cold at the creature, slowing its movements. Zevran loaded his bow and began firing, as did Jowan, from a distance, with his staff. Blythe cast Mass Rejuvenation and Heroic Defence on Allis, Sten and Zevran; and a Glyph of Warding on Jowan and herself. One of Zevran's arrows pierced the creature's eye, breaking its concentration, and Allis hit it with Crushing Prison.

"No!" cried the Demon, which disappeared, only to be replaced by another abomination; this time an Ogre, much like the one Allis had encountered in the Sloth Demon's domain before finding his companions.

"Aim for its eyes!" Allis yelled. The Ogre leaned down on one hand and lowered its head, preparing to charge.

"Allis!" Blythe screamed as the Ogre connected with him, sending the mage flying through the air, and landing on his side. Blythe ran over to him. Zevran took the opportunity to leap onto the Ogre's back, and he held on for dear life as the monster stood once more. Zevran climbed atop its head, the Ogre desperately trying to swat him away.

"Three broken ribs, broken shoulder…" muttered Blythe as she examined Allis and wiped sweat from her brow. "Hold still," she instructed, looking frantically behind her as Zevran and Sten engaged the beast. Jowan stood before the two mages, and, though clearly terrified, was doing his best to protect them as he fired lightning bolts from his staff.

"Thank you, Jowan," Allis whispered as Blythe laid her hands on him and concentrated. Allis felt the pain melt away and took a deep breath as Blythe helped him to his feet and gave him a lyrium potion, drinking one herself.

An ungodly roar sundered the air as Zevran plunged his sword and dagger into each of the Ogre's eyes. The beast thrashed around, throwing Zevran to the ground.

"Winter's Breath," Allis instructed the two mages. Jowan and Blythe did as he instructed, as Allis cast another Cone of Cold. The Ogre stood as still as a statue, frozen solid. As Blythe ran over to Zevran, Allis and Jowan nodded to one another. "Stand clear, Sten!" Allis commanded, and as the Qunari retreated, Jowan and Allis cast Stonefist at the frozen Ogre, which shattered spectacularly into thousands of shards of ice.

Blythe cast Group Heal on her companions as they walked over to she and Zevran. "He has a head injury and several broken bones," she explained, "and I can't move him. This will take me a while. Something else is here, I can feel it. Be on your guard!"

"I agree," replied Allis.

"What are you waiting for?" he called. "Come and finish it!"

"As you wish!" sounded a deep, menacing voice from behind them. "No more games!"

Sten, Allis and Jowan span round to face the final incarnation of the Sloth Demon. Blythe was too busy healing Zevran to look. A truly abominable creature stood before them; its body appeared to be made of entrails, twisted into humanoid form. Blood and pus oozed from its every orifice, and Allis and Jowan had to swallow hard to keep themselves from retching.

"And now you die!" the creature spat as it raised its arms and cast Crushing Prison on all three men. Zevran, partially healed, pointed ahead. "Blythe…"

Blythe span round and hastily cast a Glyph of Neutralisation, encompassing the three men, which dissolved the spell but also drained Allis' mana. He sank to his knees. Blythe cast Regeneration on him as he reached for a lyrium potion, but the Demon hit Allis and Sten with a Spirit Blast before he could drink it, throwing them to the ground, their bodies twitching violently. "No!" cried Blythe as she fumbled for a lyrium potion.

The demon laughed as it advanced toward her. "I shall enjoy the sound of your bones crunching in my hands!" it mocked as it neared. Blythe scooted back in terror, laying over Zevran in a desperate attempt to protect him.

"No!" cried a voice in the distance. "Get away from her!" Jowan removed a small dagger from his belt and plunged it into the palm of his hand. Just as the Demon was upon Blythe, it screamed in agony and thrashed around wildly, weaving away from Blythe toward the three men, blood pumping from its every orifice. Blythe drank a greater lyrium potion and cast Group Heal, before returning to Zevran and completing his healing. Zevran, though still groggy, rose to his feet and staggered up behind the demon, leaping onto its back.

"Bastardi!" he cried as his dagger bit deeply into the Demon's throat and sliced upwards.

"Stand clear, assassin!" Sten commanded as he rose to his feet. Zevran complied and staggered backwards into Blythe's arms. A brilliant glint of metal flashed through the air as Sten cleaved the Demon's head from its shoulders; the creature finally slumping to the ground.

All five companions sank to the floor, exhausted, as a glowing pedestal appeared before them. "Jowan…" mumbled Blythe, struggling to her feet and heading over to him. His palm was bleeding heavily and she took it in her hands, closing the wound, although leaving a nasty scar.

"Why won't it heal properly?" asked Blythe, a deep furrow in her brow.

"Magi spells don't work as effectively against wounds inflicted by blood magic," Jowan explained. Blythe looked at him, not sure whether to thank him or hit him.

She cast another Group Heal, and Mass Rejuvenation. She and the four men walked over to the pedestal. "What's this?" asked Blythe.

"I have been using these to travel around the Sloth Demon's domain," Allis explained. "Niall told me how to use them…"

"Niall?" Blythe interrupted, "what's he doing here?"

"He was enthralled by the Demon, as we were," Allis replied, "but…I think it is too late for him. I think the Demon has drained him completely." Blythe looked at him sadly and cast her eyes to the ground.

"Is everyone alright?" Allis asked. His companions nodded their heads. "Alright," he sighed, "let's see what else is in store for us," as they all touched the pedestal.

They emerged where Allis had first encountered Niall, after he had escaped from his own dream. Niall stood astonished at their appearance.

"You did it!" he cried, "you actually did it! I…never believed that anyone could outsmart the Sloth Demon, but…perhaps I should have realised that the two of you were special," he said, addressing Allis and Blythe.

"Hello again, Niall," said Allis. "We're going to take care of Uldred, now. Are you able to come with us?"

"No," he replied sadly, "it is too late for me. I have been here for too long, but for you it will have been like an afternoon's nap. Take the Litany of Adralla from my body when you return; it will counteract Uldred's blood magic. We suspected what he was up to, and devised the Litany to stop him, but alas, he moved before we could. Now, go. You should not linger here for too long."

"Is there nothing I can do to help you, Niall?" Blythe asked sadly.

"No," Niall replied, shaking his head, "defeat Uldred. That is all I wish for now, so that the death of our friends will not have been in vain. Take the Litany and use it against him. Now, hurry."

Allis and Jowan shook hands with Niall, Allis briefly embracing him and thanking him for what he had done. Blythe took Niall's hands and kissed him softly on the cheek.

"Goodbye, Niall," she said quietly. "We'll see you again, someday."

"Goodbye," he replied, "and good luck."

The five companions moved over to the large pedestal in front of Niall and touched it; instantly they found themselves back in the Circle Tower, with the Sloth Demon and Niall lying at their feet.

"Forgive me, Niall," Blythe said softly as she searched his body, and, upon finding the Litany, read the verse out loud several times, she and Allis repeating it and committing it to memory.

"Where is this Harrowing Chamber?" Zevran asked.

"Not far," Allis replied. "Are we ready?" The others nodded. "Then let's go and put this bastard in his place," he said firmly, and took the lead as they headed to confront Uldred.


	20. A noble sacrifice

**Jen, I cannot thank you enough for your hard work in editing this chapter, and I sincerely hope your red and purple nightmare will be over soon! You're the best! xxx**

**As well as Jen, a big thank you to Carrie and Matt for your encouragement, it means a lot!**

O~~~~~~~~O

A monstrous sight met the companions as they entered the Harrowing chamber. Several Tower mages were scattered around the periphery of the chamber, all of them bound and gagged; they struggled and made muffled exclamations as they saw the new arrivals.

In the centre of the room stood Uldred, flanked by three creatures that resembled the Sloth Demon they had battled in the Fade. A lone mage lay on the floor, looking up in terror. Uldred raised his arms, the mage rising into the air as he did so. Uldred approached him and grasped the terrified mage's chin.

"Do you accept the gift that I offer?" Uldred asked, in a tone indicating that the mage had no choice but to agree. The terrified mage nodded his head, although his eyes told another story.

Uldred stepped back and nodded to the three abominations. Simultaneously, they drew their arms back, then thrust them toward the mage, who screamed and writhed as he hung suspended in mid-air. A stream of brilliant light emanated from his body, momentarily blinding everyone. Several muffled shouts and cries sounded around the room as their vision returned; in place of the mage stood another abomination. Allis charged forward furiously, and Uldred turned to meet him.

"Ah! Look what we have here!" the blood mage sneered, "I remember you…Irving's star pupil. I didn't think much of you then, and I certainly don't see your appeal now!"

"I'm not here for a critique of my character, Uldred," Allis replied, brandishing his staff. "I'm here to stop you!"

"Fight, if you must!" Uldred laughed mockingly, "it will just make my victory all the sweeter!" The companions shielded their eyes as another blinding light shone from Uldred's body. As the light subsided, they looked up – and the horror before them stole their breath.

Standing in front of them, growing before their eyes, was a diabolical sight. Over 25 feet tall it stood, a black reptilian monstrosity with huge, lobster-like claws. It was covered from head to foot in a greasy, scaly hide.

"Sten! Zevran!" Allis commanded, "Take care of the abominations! Blythe, Jowan, let's draw Uldred away from them! Frost and Stonefist!"

As Sten and Zevran engaged the abominations, Allis ran ahead, casting Cone of Cold as Jowan cast Winter's Grasp. The demon stood frozen momentarily, and Jowan and Allis cast Stonefist. They knew they would not shatter the demon, but they could inflict some damage. As they were doing this, Blythe cast several defensive spells upon her companions; Heroic Offense on Sten and Zevran, Heroic Defence on herself and the other two mages, and a pre-emptive Lifeward on all five of them.

Allis and Jowan distracted the demon by running around it, feeling a warm glow wash over them as Blythe Regenerated them. The demon thawed and immediately raised its claws into the air. A pulsating field of energy surrounded the bound mages around the periphery, and they cried out in pain. "Blythe!" called Allis, "he's doing something to the mages! Recite the Litany!"

Blythe stood still for a moment and closed her eyes, concentrating on reciting the verse correctly. As she spoke, the mages were released from the energy field, and resumed struggling to free themselves from their bonds.

"Blythe!" Allis screamed as the demon swung its claw and connected with Blythe's head. She crumpled to the floor, her Lifeward the only thing keeping her from death.

Zevran, having finished off the abominations with Sten, ran to her side. He fell to his knees and gently touched her head, his hand slick with blood as he withdrew it. He cursed to himself as he scrabbled through his backpack, taking out several health poultices and desperately trying to stem the bleeding.

Allis and Jowan once again cast their frost spells, and the demon stood frozen in place. Sten ran over and began hacking at the creature's legs, and Jowan cast Stonefist. As Allis anxiously glanced over toward Blythe and Zevran, he ventured a Crushing Prison spell. It had no effect. As the demon began to thaw, he drank a lyrium potion and threw one to Jowan. "Move, Sten!" Allis cried in vain as the demon kicked out behind itself, winding the Qunari. While Sten gasped for breath, the demon span round and grabbed him in its claw, throwing him against the chamber wall. Sten fell to the floor, barely conscious and unable to rise.

With their healer and warrior down, genuine terror gripped Allis and Jowan as they attempted another frost/Stonefist combination. This time the demon did not freeze, and once again raised its arms into the air, surrounding the bound mages with a new energy field.

Allis recited the Litany as he dodged the demon's blows, gesturing with his arm for Jowan to fall back. The energy field disappeared from around the mages. "Zevran!" Allis yelled, "we need help!"

Zevran looked up; he was still tending to Blythe, who remained unconscious, bleeding heavily. He hesitated for a moment, not knowing whether to use his bow or daggers, both of which he felt would be useless.

"I shall distract it!" Zevran called, to which Allis nodded. Zevran ran around the demon, occasionally stabbing at its legs to draw its attention. Allis reached for a lyrium potion, but had run out. "Jowan, do you have any lyrium?" he called.

"No, Allis!" Jowan replied, running over to check Blythe. He found only empty bottles on her. "She's out of lyrium, as well!" he cried, panic in his voice.

Allis began firing basic bolts from his staff, breaking into a cold sweat as he felt death creeping up on him. The demon thrust its arms behind itself, sending Jowan and Zevran skidding across the floor, both momentarily dazed. Allis backed away slowly as the demon cornered him and raised its arms once more, enveloping both the bound mages and Allis in its energy field. Allis fell to his knees, clutching his head and screaming.

"No!" cried Jowan, desperately trying to shake off his nausea and dizziness. "I won't let you do it! Zevran! I need your help!"

The assassin struggled to rise to his feet. As he stood, clutching and shaking his head, he saw Allis and the other mages writhing in agony as a silver glow enveloped them. His head turned at a blood-curdling scream from Jowan as the apprentice sliced through his own belly with a dagger.

"Merda!" cried Zevran. "What are you doing?"

"Be ready!" Jowan cried, grimacing and panting, as a torrent of blood gushed from his wound. Zevran stepped back in horror as Jowan levitated from the floor, blood spilling from him, and raised his arms above his head. The demon turned around and bellowed at the sight in front of him, charging toward Jowan.

Jowan's body went limp in mid-air and his head fell back as his wound widened; a jet of his own blood spurted outward, engulfing the demon. The monster stopped mid-stride and roared in agony as it was consumed by a red glow.

The glow subsided, as did the energy field surrounding the mages; and there, on the floor, lay Uldred, in a severely weakened state. Zevran sprinted over to him, his face twisted in hatred as he sat atop Uldred's thighs, pushed the blood mage's head back, and slit his throat, twisting the blade several times.

"Vaffanculo, pezzo di merda!" he cried as Uldred gurgled his last. Zevran leapt to his feet and ran over to the bound mages, slicing through their bonds with his dagger. "Healers! Which ones of you are healers?" he called. Five of the mages raised their hands and struggled to rise. "Forget your own weakness!" he commanded, "help them!"

The healers went to the injured; two of them tended to Blythe. A green glow filled the room as Zevran walked over to Allis and helped him to his feet. They headed over toward Jowan. No healers tended to him; he was beyond their help.

Allis crouched down and stared vacantly at the blood mage. "What did he do?" he asked Zevran softly.

"He saved all of us," Zevran replied, shaking his head sadly. "That is what he did."

Allis, exhausted and empty, leaned down to Jowan's ear. "You did it, Jowan," he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks, "you did something heroic. And I won't let anyone forget it, I swear."

~O~

After working tirelessly, the healing mages of the Tower restored the companions and the rest of the survivors to full health. First Enchanter Irving was among the rescued, and stood talking to some of the mages. He looked up to see Blythe approaching him. He opened his mouth to speak, and she shook her head determinedly, silencing him.

"You need to come downstairs with us," she said coldly, "Greagoir will not open the doors without your word that the Tower is safe."

"Child…" he began.

"Don't 'child' me, you bastard!" she yelled, ignoring the gasps of the Tower mages. "You owe me an explanation! You betrayed me! In Andraste's name, why?"

Irving hung his head and sighed. "It was for your own good," he replied, holding his hand up when Blythe opened her mouth, "please, let me finish." He walked closer to her so no one could hear. "Greagoir knew about you and Cullen, and wanted to make an example of you both, but at the same time we were investigating Jowan and Lily. He did not want two Chantry personnel sent to Aeonar so soon after Macintosh, the Templar. He believed it would bode ill with the Grand Cleric.

I persuaded him to spare Cullen, and I devised the plan to send you along with Jowan and Lily to the repository. I knew you would all be captured, and that Greagoir would try to punish you. However, I also knew that Duncan was in attendance, and as I had spoken so highly of you to him, I was certain he would conscript you."

"But what if he hadn't, Irving?" she retorted angrily.

"It was a risk, I will not lie," he answered, "but I could see no other way forward."

"So," she sneered, "you were willing to risk me being sent to Aeonar to make one of your deals with Greagoir? I thought you were better than that, Irving."

"I believe everything has turned out well, considering," Irving replied.

"Well?" Blythe yelled, stopping when Allis touched her arm. She took a deep breath. "You and your mages are needed to help a possessed child at Redcliffe Castle," she said, trying to steady her voice, "we must leave immediately."

"Of course we will help," Irving replied. "And I will help _you_, in any way I can."

"That's all I want from you, Irving," she said brusquely, as she walked away, "not your flimsy excuses. Meet us downstairs, and do not take too long."

O~~~~~~~~~O

Teagan ran up the stone steps two at a time. He had been summoned to the battlements by the Castle's guard. One of the guards hailed him as he reached the summit. Teagan ran over. "Yes, Jeffrie?" he asked breathlessly.

"My Lord, you asked to be informed immediately of any travellers approaching from the west," the guard replied, pointing to the road.

Teagan squinted his eyes. He could barely make out a group of approximately a dozen people in the distance, most of whom wore brightly coloured robes. "Mages!" Teagan exclaimed, "thank you Jeffrie! And well done!" he called as he headed back down the steps.

As the group approached the Castle, they were met by a very excited Bann Teagan, who jogged forward, and clasped Allis and Blythe's hands. "Well met, indeed!" he cried. Then, when the two mages did not return his smile, he ushered them inside. "Please, enter. You must be exhausted. I have already prepared rooms for all of you." He watched with concern as Blythe and Allis nodded silently and entered the Castle, and as Zevran walked by with his head hung low. Sten also passed by in silence, but that was not unusual for the taciturn Qunari.

"Bann Teagan," said Irving, "I am First Enchanter Irving of the Circle of Magi, and these are my associates." He introduced Teagan to several mages and two Templars. "We have come to assist with the possessed child."

"I cannot thank you enough, First Enchanter Irving," Teagan replied, shaking the old mage's hand, still distracted by the demeanours of the returning party.

"They faced many trials during their time in the Tower," Irving explained, noting Teagan's concern, "most of which were quite traumatic. Let them rest. It will take time for us to prepare, anyway."

"Of course," Teagan replied, "please follow me. The Castle is at your disposal, and everything you need will be provided."

O~~~~~~~~O

Blythe lay sleeping atop her bed, still in her robes. Cullen sat on a wooden chair next to the bed and watched her as she slept; an agonising experience, as he had waited for so long to speak to her, to hold her, to smell her and feel her warmth; and here she was, so close, yet completely closed off to him.

He reached over and softly brushed her cheek with his hand; his heart aching as he felt her warmth. She murmured and swatted his hand away as she came closer to the surface of awakening. Cullen grinned to himself and gently cleared his throat, his gut wrenching as her eyes flickered open.

Her eyes widened and she slowly sat up and rose from the bed, not once taking her eyes off him. She then slowly backed away toward the door, her mouth hanging open. It was then that Cullen realised it was not surprise he saw in her eyes, but terror.

He rose from the chair. "Blythe?" he said softly, "it's me, Cullen! What's wrong?" He took a tentative step toward her.

"Stay back!" she warned. Cullen noticed her hands were trembling.

"Alright," he replied, holding his palms up and sitting down once again.

Blythe broke into a sweat as her eyes darted around the room. "W-what are you doing here?" she asked so quietly he could barely hear. He looked at her in bewilderment and desperation.

"We followed you from Lothering, Blythe, Anders and I," he replied, rising from the chair, "Blythe, what is it?"

"I told you to stay back!" she cried, almost in tears.

Cullen sat down once more, deeply hurt at her reaction.

"I-I…I need to speak to T-teagan," she whispered as she opened the door.

"I'll be waiting," he replied as she exited and closed the door behind her. He stared at the door for a few moments then stood and paced the room. Bann Teagan had told him that the companions were very withdrawn upon their return from the Tower - Blythe and Allis in particular - but that no details had been forthcoming. Cullen rubbed his eyes and sat down on the bed, swallowing his hurt down and resolving to stay strong for her.

O~~~~~~~~~~O

Teagan, Allis and Alistair stood talking in the main hall. Alistair had rushed to see Allis upon his return, only to find him quiet and uncommunicative. Allis had promised to tell Alistair what had transpired at the Tower, but wanted to wait until Irving and the others had departed. The mage then insisted that they go and speak to Teagan. Allis did not want the two of them to be alone for the time being; he did not want Alistair to see him crumble.

Blythe entered the main hall, looking hesitant and unsure of herself. "Blythe!" Alistair called as he walked over to her, "it's good to see you again! I hear I have you to thank for saving my life!" He took her hands and kissed her softly on the cheek.

"You're welcome, Alistair," she replied quietly, turning to face Teagan. "Am I going insane, or is Cullen in my bedroom?" she asked.

"Forgive me, my lady," Teagan replied, "he was most insistent on seeing you. He promised not to disturb you."

"But h-how…?" she mumbled.

"They arrived here just after your departure for the Tower," Teagan explained. "They had been looking for you, and were asking questions around the village. After a…misunderstanding, they stayed here as my guests until your return."

"They?" Blythe asked, "do you mean…Anders?"

"Yes," Teagan replied happily. "They are both at the Castle. Anders is with Morrigan, keeping watch over Connor with the contingent from the Tower."

"The contingent?" she cried in alarm, "but…there are Templars with them!"

"We've already taken care of that," Alistair explained, "there was a bit of a to-do at first, but I told the Templars that Anders is a Grey Warden now, and that they can't touch him."

"Really?" Blythe gasped, a smile finally reaching her mouth.

Alistair shrugged. "Well they don't need to know that we don't know how to do the Joining, do they?" he whispered, with a wink.

"Can you imagine the _look _on Greagoir's face when he finds out?" Allis said with a hint of a smile.

Blythe's thoughts returned to Cullen. "So, it really _is_ him up there?" she whispered, fighting back tears, "I thought he was a…a…"

"No," Allis replied, taking her hands, "this is the _real _Cullen."

Teagan and Alistair exchanged concerned glances. "Come on," said Allis, "I'll walk you back upstairs."

~O~

Blythe's hands shook as she touched the doorknob. Allis kissed her cheek and excused himself. She cautiously entered the room, to find Cullen pacing back and forth. He froze upon seeing her. As she gazed at him, her face crumpled and tears fell from her eyes. "I-I'm so sorry…" she wailed, unable to move from where she stood.

Cullen slowly walked over to her, taking her trembling hands in his own, and pulled her to his chest. He released her hands and tenderly stroked her hair and face as she sobbed against his shoulder. "You're safe, now," he whispered.

She nodded and wiped away her tears, daring to look up into his amber eyes. He smoothed away the rest of her tears with his thumbs and looked at her, his gaze filled with love. She could smell sandalwood on him; the soap he used. The demon Cullen had no scent. "It really is you, isn't it?" she said in wonder. He nodded and a shy grin tugged at the edges of his mouth.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly.

"I am now," she replied.

Cullen rested his hands against her face. "Blythe…" he whispered throatily. Without saying so, he was asking permission to kiss her. He so desperately wanted to be close to her, but didn't want to alarm her again.

Blythe brought her own hands up to his face and drew him close. "Cullen," she murmured, "I've dreamed about this moment ever since we were parted…"

He brushed his lips against hers and sighed as she ran her hands through his hair and took his bottom lip in between her own, sending an almost painful yearning blazing through his body. He grasped her face and covered her mouth with his, greedily and desperately exploring. She moaned into his mouth, her body limp, and wrapped her arms around him, clutching at his shirt as she pulled him toward the bed.

He went willingly and bent over with her, never breaking the kiss, as she sat and swung her legs onto the bed. He placed his legs between hers and leaned on her; Blythe broke the kiss and cried aloud as she felt his full weight. He claimed her mouth once more, his heart racing so fast he felt it would burst out of his chest. His hands wandered over her breasts and down to her hips, his need for her dire.

As she grasped at his shirt and pulled it over his head, he looked down at her and suddenly remembered the ordeal she had just survived. He desperately wanted to make her his, but would not take advantage of her.

As she pulled him nearer, he resisted slightly, and kissed her softly, stroking her face. She moaned loudly and pressed herself into him. He threw his head back and cried out as a battle raged within him. "Blythe…" he panted, "we have to stop."

"No!" she begged, "please…touch me…" she took his hand and placed it onto her breast; he immediately removed it and moved from between her legs, lying at her side. She tried to push him onto his back but he resisted."We have to stop," he repeated, as he stroked her face and kissed her forehead.

"Why?" she moaned, her body going limp.

Cullen took Blythe's hand and intertwined their fingers. "Because…you've been through something terrible," he replied gently, "I don't know exactly what happened, but I can tell it has affected you deeply. I don't want us to rush into anything while you're feeling like this. I'm sorry. This is my fault. I allowed myself to get carried away."

"But I'm alright, Cullen, really…" she protested.

"No," he replied softly, stroking her cheek, "you're not."

She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, realising he was right. She wrapped her arms around his neck and embraced him. "I've missed you so much, Cullen," she whispered, as once more tears began to flow.

He drew himself up and wiped the tears from her face. "Everything will be alright, Blythe," he promised, "I'll never let anyone or anything hurt you again, I swear."

"Cullen?" Blythe asked, taking his hand, "do you realise you're looking directly into my eyes?"

"I know," he replied, softly kissing her lips. "I'm frightened to take my eyes off you in case you disappear again."

"Never," she whispered. "You're stuck with me now, my love."


	21. A new dynamic

**Hi and thank you to my latest reviewers, Chatoyant Tiger and Drustanus, and to my wonderful regular reviewers – you're the best!**

**Thank you so much to my wonderful friend, advisor and Beta Reader Jen – I love you girl! xxx**

**~Warning: Explicit M x M sex scene in this chapter.~**

**O~~~~~~~~~O**

Teagan, Alistair, Allis, Blythe and Irving stood on the dais in Redcliffe's main hall as one by one, the Tower mages began to enter. Connor had remained in the room next door, guarded by one of the Templars from the Tower as the mages prepared. Blythe and Allis had decided that Cullen should not attend, even in disguise; they feared that if the Chantry found out he was there, even claiming he was a Grey Warden would not be enough to stop one of their agents from getting to him somehow.

Anders and Morrigan, relieved from their task of guarding Connor, also entered, along with the second Templar. Teagan beckoned the two mages to join him and the others on the dais. Upon spotting Allis, Anders ran over to the elf, lifted him by the waist and planted an enthusiastic kiss on his lips. "They told me you were here, Allis!" he exclaimed, ignoring the scandalised gasps from around the room, "how are you, you old tart?"

Allis, looking a little embarrassed, smiled nervously as one of Alistair's eyebrows shot up. "I, um…I'm fine, thanks," he replied as Anders put him down, "it's good to see you again, Anders. This is Alistair," he said, turning toward the Templar. "My, erm…my _friend_."

Anders extended his hand. "Good to meet you, Alistair!" he chirped. Alistair shook his hand but did not speak or alter his stony expression. _Oh, crap_, Anders thought.

Anders then turned toward Blythe, who had waited patiently with a huge grin on her face. "And how's my princess?" he beamed, "happy, now she's reunited with her prince?"

"Very happy!" she replied as they embraced.

"So," Anders whispered into her ear, "has he _pierced_ you with his 'sword of mercy' yet?"

"Anders!" she exclaimed, before dissolving into a fit of giggles. Allis grinned to see Blythe laughing again.

"I'll take that as a 'no', then," Anders replied dryly, rolling his eyes, "I should have bloody well known!"

"You scallywag!" she admonished, dramatically prodding Anders' chest with her finger.

"Scallywag?" he scoffed, "I much prefer 'rogue' or 'scoundrel'. Goes down much better with the ladies, don't you know."

"Yes," she chuckled, "I can see you're fighting them off as we speak!"

Anders was about to reply when a tranquil mage entered, carrying a white bowl filled with glowing blue liquid, which he placed on a pedestal.

"Ah, we are ready," said Irving, addressing Morrigan, Allis, Anders and Blythe. "Which of you will be entering the Fade?"

"I will," Allis and Anders said in unison.

"Actually," said Blythe, annoyed that Irving assumed that she or one of her friends would do it, "I think Irving should do it. Show us youngsters how it's done, eh?"

"Me?" the elderly mage spluttered, "but I cannot enter the Fade. I shall be overseeing the ritual."

"Is there a reason another mage can't do that?" she said, folding her arms and tilting her head back defiantly.

"Well, no…but…" Irving replied, unable to think of a plausible excuse.

"I would be happy to oversee the ritual, First Enchanter," Allis offered helpfully as he stepped forward, casting a surreptitious wink at Blythe. "I am a senior mage, after all."

"I…er…oh, very well," Irving sighed reluctantly. "I shall enter the Fade."

"Good!" Allis replied, raising his hand to gain the attention of the Templar. "Would you join us, please, Ser?" he asked, and as the Templar stepped forward, Allis informed him that Irving would be entering the Fade to confront the demon.

"I see," said the Templar in a muffled voice from behind his helm. Allis fancied he could detect a smirk in his voice.

Irving stepped forward to the pedestal and held his hand over the bowl, as the Templar placed his hand on the hilt of his sword in readiness. Irving immersed his hand into the bowl of liquid, and as he lifted it out, a blinding stream of light emanated from it.

The old man crumpled, and Anders caught him, lowering him to the floor. Irving lay there peacefully, as though asleep. Occasionally, his body twitched, and the mages especially noted the tension of the Templar when this occurred. After ten minutes or so, Irving began to speak:

"You have nothing I wish for, demon. There will be no discussion."

The mages exchanged glances and the Templar removed his helm, wiping the heavy perspiration from his brow. Blythe, Anders and Allis recognised him as Ser Thomas.

"Very well!" cried Irving, as his body began to twitch violently.

"Is he alright?" Anders asked.

"Yes," Ser Thomas replied, "they must engaging in battle."

Blythe suddenly felt a pang of guilt for sending the old man into the Fade, but at the same time was relieved that none of her friends were there.

"I need help in here!" cried the other Templar from Connor's room.

Anders and Morrigan ran in, as they had tended to Connor previously. The boy lay on a bed, unconscious, and appeared to be having a seizure. Anders climbed onto the bed next to him on his knees and raised his arms, invoking a Lifeward to protect him. "It's alright, Connor," he soothed, stroking the child's forehead, "just hang in there. This will be over soon."

Back in the main hall, Irving's body had stilled. Allis and Blythe crouched down next to him, watching for signs of movement. Finally, the old man's eyes flickered open and he scanned the room, exhaling deeply. "The demon is no more," he mumbled.

Morrigan entered the main hall. "The boy is safe," she announced.

Teagan crouched down next to Irving and shook his hand. "I cannot thank you enough, First Enchanter," he said gratefully. "Is there anything I can offer you in return for what you have done?"

Irving chuckled wearily. "Have someone take me to a bed," he groaned, "I am not as sprightly as once I was."

"At once," Teagan replied, gesturing to two of his Knights, who walked over and gently helped the old man to his feet, taking him to a bedroom to recuperate.

O~~~~~~~~~O

After the departure of the Tower mages and Templars, and following a hearty meal, Bann Teagan gathered the Wardens and their companions in the banqueting hall. There, he gave his heartfelt thanks to them all for what they had done in service to Redcliffe, and presented each of them with a gift. Alistair, Cullen and Sten received a brand new set of heavy chainmail, fashioned from Silverite; for Leliana and Zevran, a tough but light tunic of reinforced leather, along with new boots and gloves; and for the mages, a brand new staff and set of enchanted robes. Even Reaper was presented with a brand new spiked leather collar.

Teagan then asked for their help one last time, in locating the Urn of Sacred Ashes, which he hoped would cure Eamon. Allis and Alistair were keen, but some of their companions were not so enthusiastic; Sten, Morrigan and Zevran being the most outspoken in their opposition. Allis asked Teagan to leave them to discuss the matter, and he complied, closing the door behind him.

"'Tis naught but a wild goose chase," said Morrigan, "and unworthy of our time, which could be better spent going after our enemies, which are many."

"I agree with the witch," Sten concurred, ignoring her glare. "We cannot chase after a fable when we have the Blight to deal with."

"I happen to agree with you both," Allis replied. "I don't hold out much hope of finding the Urn, if it even exists, but we do need Eamon, and I believe we should make every effort to save him. However, we should not lose sight of our true purpose in doing so."

He sat and thought carefully for a few moments. "I have an idea," he said finally. "I think we should split up – one group going in search of the Urn; the other continuing with the Grey Warden treaties. Does that sound fair?"

A few murmurs of agreement sounded from around the table. "Right," he continued, "this is how I think we should be split – group one will consist of myself, Alistair, Zevran, Anders and Reaper; group two, Blythe, Cullen, Sten, Leliana and Morrigan. That way," he explained, "each group has a healer, an offensive mage, a Templar, a warrior and a multi-talented rogue."

_And the two couples stay together_, he thought.

Cullen and Blythe grinned at one another from across the table. Zevran watched them, his face set in a impassive mask, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

"Does anyone disagree?" Allis asked.

"No," Sten muttered, "I _should _travel in the group containing the most women. They will need more protection." The three women looked at one another and rolled their eyes, but said nothing.

"Blythe?" Allis asked, "as the Warden, you will be in charge of your group. Where would you like to go?"

"Come on, let's confer," she said, gathering her new team around her. After some discussion, she turned back to Allis. "We'd like to go and visit the dwarves," she replied.

"Good," Allis grinned, "looks like the rest of us are going after the Urn, then."

"Does this mean we'll be going to Denerim," asked Alistair, "to find this Brother Genitivi?"

"That's right," Allis replied.

"Well, I was wondering if we could look someone up while we're there?" Alistair requested, "if we have time, that is?"

"I don't see why not," Allis replied, "anyone exciting?"

"My sister, actually," Alistair replied in a low voice.

"Of course!" Allis exclaimed, "you told me about your sister. She lives in Denerim, then?"

"I hope she still does," Alistair replied. "I know where she used to live, at least. Perhaps we could try there?"

"Definitely," Allis nodded, "I can't wait to meet her myself, in fact!" he said excitedly, before turning to the rest of the group. "I suggest we all get an early night," he recommended, "and set out in the morning. We will all be able to travel together for a day or two along the Imperial Highway, before going our separate ways."

The companions rose and drifted toward their rooms. Alistair and Allis went to speak with Teagan to advise him of their decision. Anders approached Zevran before the assassin left the room and introduced himself.

"Well, looks like we'll be travelling together," he said brightly, shaking Zevran's hand. "The name's Anders."

"Zevran, or Zev to my friends," the elf replied, looking up at the tall mage.

"And which should I call you?" Anders asked with a grin.

"Well," Zevran replied, "we shall see. It all depends on how we get along, does it not?"

"Very true," Anders laughed, as Zevran smiled magnanimously and departed for his room.

"Does Zevran have something stuck to his back?" asked Blythe as she sidled up to Anders.

"Eh?" he mumbled.

"Well, you seemed to be staring at him as he left," Blythe replied with mock innocence.

"Hm? Who?" Anders asked with unconvincing nonchalance.

"Zevran," Blythe said firmly, "you know – the _elf_? You have a thing for elves, don't you?"

"Oh," Anders replied airily, "was he an elf?" Blythe shook her head and walked away, laughing to herself.

"Oh, hold on, Blythe," Anders said, catching up to her. "Go and sit back down for a minute. Cullen and I need to speak to you and Allis."

"What about?" she asked.

"Just go and sit down, Blythe," he sighed, "I'll go and round up Allis."

~O~

Alistair, Allis and Reaper were about to head upstairs when Anders approached them. "Allis?" he asked, "may I borrow you for a few minutes? Cullen and I need to speak to you and Blythe."

"Alright," Allis replied and turned to Alistair. "Carry on. I'll be up soon. I'll see if I can locate a bottle of wine on my way up," he added with a wink.

"Yes, don't worry, Alistair," Anders added cheerfully, "I'll let you have him back in a jiffy!"

"Thanks," Alistair replied dryly and turned to head upstairs. "Come on, Reaper," he called. The Mabari bounded after him enthusiastically.

~O~

Allis and Anders entered the banqueting hall once more, and Anders motioned for him to sit down next to Blythe and Cullen as he closed the door.

"Cullen and I have made a disturbing discovery," Anders said soberly as he took a seat, "which we think the two of you should be aware of – but it's to go no further."

Allis and Blythe nodded and leaned forward, their curiosity piqued.

Anders glanced at Cullen as he spoke. "When it was decided that the two of us were going to escape together, we knew that Cullen's addiction to lyrium would be an issue," he said quietly, then paused before continuing. "I endeavoured to discover the difference between the Templars' lyrium and the mages'. What I found was…horrifying."

Allis and Blythe's eyes darted between the two men. "What?" Blythe said anxiously.

Anders sighed heavily. "It turned out," he replied, "that the Templars' lyrium is laced with opium – laudanum, to be exact."

A heavy silence fell as Allis and Blythe stared back at Anders, their mouths hanging open.

"He's been weaned off it now," Anders added, "although he still feels its effects every day."

"Oh, Cullen…" Blythe murmured, placing one of her hands on his shoulder and taking his hand with the other, "I can't imagine what you must have gone through."

"Actually," Cullen replied, shrugging his shoulders, "Anders had the hardest time. I don't remember much of it."

"Do you feel you've recovered, now, Cullen?" Allis asked, leaning over the table.

"No," he replied, shaking his head, "several times a day I…well, I crave it. It's a constant battle, but I'm not going to let those bastards at the Chantry defeat me. I won't give in."

"I'm so proud of you," Blythe whispered to him, to which he smiled faintly.

"So," Allis said grimly, "the Templars' addiction is not an unfortunate side effect of taking lyrium, but a deliberate way for the Chantry to control them?"

"Exactly," Anders replied, "chills the blood, doesn't it?"

"Alistair needs to know about this," Allis said, standing up.

"Alistair? Why?" asked Anders.

"Because he's a Templar," Cullen explained. "Although he never took his final vows, and therefore never took any lyrium, he still has a right to know."

"Not only that," Allis muttered, "but Alistair may also be…highly placed some day. He may be able to do something about this."

"Highly placed?" asked Cullen, his eyes narrowing a little. Allis noted that he did not seem very surprised.

"Maybe," Allis replied abruptly, realising his _faux pas_. "We'll, erm…deal with that nearer to the time. I'd better go."

"Wait!" cried Blythe, turning to Allis. "We have something for Anders, remember?"

"Oh, yes!" Allis exclaimed with a smile. "Come on, Anders, you too, Cullen. We found something at the Circle Tower which Anders might like."

"Ooh, surprises!" Anders squealed, leaping from his chair. "A nice one, I hope!"

~O~

Allis led the other three to his room and opened the door. On his bed lay a ginger tomcat, who looked up and swished his tail in annoyance at the intrusion; then, upon spotting Anders, jumped down from the bed and approached him, rubbing his head and body against Anders' legs, mewing contentedly.

Anders looked down at the cat as a look of childlike delight lit up his face. "Mr Wiggums?" he exclaimed with laughter in his voice. "Where did you find him?" he chuckled, lifting the cat up and rubbing its nose with his own.

"He was hiding under a bunk," Allis explained. "We gave him some food and water and told him to stay there until we returned. We collected him on our way out."

"Can I…keep him?" Anders asked hopefully.

"Of course!" Blythe replied with a laugh. "We thought of you as soon as we found him. You always were his favourite."

"Oh, thank you!" Anders laughed, then his face fell and his brow furrowed. "Hang on," he muttered, "I won't be able to take Mr Wiggums with me – Reaper will be coming with us!"

"It's alright," Allis replied, "I introduced the two of them earlier. They were a little wary around each other at first, but I don't think Reaper has had any experience of cats before now, and doesn't realise he's supposed to eat them! They were playing together not long ago. I think they'll become friends."

~O~

Alistair opened his bedroom door to let Reaper out for a spell, and looked up the corridor just in time to see Allis and Anders embracing before they all said goodnight. He closed the door and leaned against it, shutting his eyes as he tried to shrug off the feeling of panic and dread that seized him. He walked over to the table and poured himself a second glass of wine, downing it in one gulp.

~O~

Cullen walked Blythe to her room. They stood outside the door, stroking each other's arms and talking about the prospect of travelling together. Occasionally, Blythe would grab his arm and try to steer him toward the door, to which Cullen would laugh and steer himself back again.

"You're such a tease, Cullen, do you know that?" Blythe whispered in his ear.

"A tease?" he exclaimed, looking both horrified and amused. "How?" he asked incredulously.

"Well," Blythe murmured, running her hand down his chest, "you walk around looking all handsome, you speak in that wonderful soft voice of yours, you smell so nice, and then you walk me to my room…"

Cullen had turned bright red. "And?" he chuckled.

"And," she repeated, "now you're going to be a gentleman, kiss me on the forehead and wish me goodnight! It's more than a girl can bear!"

Cullen laughed softly and looked up and down the hallway. "Come here," he whispered playfully, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. He leaned into her and gently pushed her against the wall, eliciting a gasp from Blythe. He brought his hands up to her face, softly caressing its contours, as he brought his lips close to hers. Then, he moved upwards and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight!" he said mischievously as he walked away.

"You…you _wretched _man!" Blythe exclaimed hotly. Cullen turned and flashed her a brilliant smile as he disappeared around the corner.

~O~

Allis knocked on Alistair's door and entered, closing it behind him. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "you've started on the wine. Good. Pour me a glass, would you?" Allis sat on Alistair's bed and wearily pulled his boots off. "Look, Alistair," he said, "there's something I need to tell you about…"

"If it's about you and Anders, I already know," Alistair sneered from across the room. "He's not exactly subtle, is he?"

"What? Anders?" Allis asked, puzzled, "what does he have to do with anything?"

"Oh, come on," Alistair snapped, "it's obvious that the two of you were involved at some point."

"And what if we were, Alistair?" Allis replied irritably. "I have been with other men, you know. You know what goes on at the Tower. You must have known that about me."

"Yes, I did…" Alistair said uncertainly, "it's just that when he picked you up in front of everyone, then kissed you…I felt like such a fool."

"Well I could hardly help that, could I?" Allis replied angrily, standing up, "the man's twice my size!"

Alistair sighed and sank into a chair. "So what did happen between the two of you, then?" he asked miserably.

"You really want to know?" Allis snapped, feeling like he was being interrogated, "we gave each other a hand job in a storeroom several years ago. It lasted for two minutes and was very forgettable. End of story. And he wasn't the only one, Alistair," he added, anger creeping into his voice, "there were several over the years. I can't even remember the names of some of them! Are you happy now?"

"Look," said Alistair weakly, "I…I didn't expect you to have lived like a priest, it's just that…"

"You know what, Alistair?" Allis interrupted, "I'm really not in the mood for this tonight! Blythe and I have just returned from the Tower, where we found pretty much everyone we ever called a friend dead or turned into an abomination…!"

Alistair stood up, his face racked with shock and sorrow.

"…No, Alistair," Allis continued, holding his hands up, "save it! I'm going to bed!"

Allis turned and headed toward the door, but Alistair ran ahead and leaned against it, blocking his exit.

"Please, don't go, Allis," Alistair pleaded, "Maker, I'm so sorry. I…I had no idea…but you wouldn't talk to me when you returned, and you shut me out…I felt…left out. I'm sorry. It was really selfish of me."

Allis sighed and his body went limp. He walked over to the bed and sat down heavily, staring ahead of him. Alistair tentatively walked over and sat beside him, placing his arm on Allis' back. "Please, tell me what happened," he asked softly.

Allis remained silent for a few moments then took a deep breath. He told Alistair how they had found most of the apprentices and Templars dead on the first floor, and that on the second and third floors, they'd encountered monstrous abominations and undead creatures. Then he recounted meeting the Sloth Demon on the fourth floor and how they had all been drawn into the fade, trapped in their own dreams. Finally, he told Alistair about their terrible battle against Uldred, and of Jowan's sacrifice.

"Jowan…?" Alistair said in disbelief. "I can't believe it."

"He was a hero, Alistair," Allis replied thickly, "if it weren't for him, we would all be dead, and I have no doubt that by now, abominations would have been roaming the countryside. Uldred was building an army."

The two men sat in silence for a moment. Alistair placed his arm around Allis' shoulder and pulled him close. "So, what did you dream about, Allis?" he asked gently.

Allis closed his eyes and Alistair felt the elf's body stiffen. "I…I don't want to talk about that, Alistair," he replied. "It's not that I'm trying to shut you out…it's just…too soon. Ask me again another time."

"No," Alistair replied, "tell me when you're ready." He felt Allis' body relax once again, and he planted a soft kiss against the elf's temple. "You'd best get some sleep, Allis," he whispered, "you must be exhausted. You can sleep in here, if you like."

"No, Alistair," he replied, looking into the Templar's eyes, "I don't want to go to sleep. We have a nice big bed, privacy for once, and absolutely no mud," he grinned. "I nearly lost you the other day, and Maker knows we don't get much time on our own. I want to be with you tonight."

"Are you sure?" Alistair asked, feeling a warm tingle rise up his body.

"Quite sure," he replied, standing up and turning his back on Alistair, "help me with this."

Alistair took a deep breath and stood up, unbuttoning Allis' robe, which he found tricky at first. He finally mastered the knack of undoing the buttons with one hand; with the other he stroked Allis' hair.

"Show off," Allis muttered. Alistair chuckled, and as he reached the last button, he pulled the robe down over Allis' shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Allis turned around, placed his hands against Alistair's shirt, and began undoing his buttons. Alistair placed his hands on Allis' hips, leaned down, and took his mouth gently, feeling a wave of warmth wash over him as Allis responded. Alistair pulled back as he felt his shirt being tugged off, and pulled it off at the cuffs, throwing it to the floor.

Allis then moved his hands to Alistair's breeches, unravelling the laces, as he trailed kisses down the Templar's chest. Alistair closed his eyes and clasped Allis' head, raking his fingers across his scalp and gently tugging his hair.

Allis knelt down as he pulled Alistair's breeches and smallclothes down, Alistair helpfully stepping out of them. "Maker's Breath," Allis exclaimed, looking up the length of Alistair's body, seeing him completely naked for the first time. "You're magnificent," he purred throatily. "Sit down, Alistair," he said.

Alistair sat on the bed, expecting Allis to sit next to him, but the elf stayed on his knees and moved in between Alistair's legs, running his hands down the Templar's muscled and hairy chest, placing soft kisses on his belly, and occasionally plucking a chest hair, causing Alistair to hiss sharply. "Allis…" Alistair murmured, his breath becoming laboured, as he gently grasped Allis' hair with one hand, and stroked his shoulder with the other.

Allis moved up to Alistair's chest and took a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard and biting gently, causing Alistair to throw his head back and grunt loudly, his breath coming out in ever shorter bursts. Alistair's mouth fell open as Allis moved down between his legs, his one hand moving to Alistair's thigh; the other, softly caressing and squeezing his balls. Alistair sank back on his elbows and moaned as he realised what Allis was doing, and shuddered as he felt a warm tongue slide up and down his engorged shaft.

"Allis…please!" he cried, desperate for release, pulling Allis' head toward him, crying out and bucking his hips as he felt wet heat envelop him. Allis' hand moved to Alistair's shaft, stroking rhythmically, as he sucked and nibbled, before taking his lover's length fully into his mouth.

"Ah, Maker, Allis…" Alistair cried plaintively, no longer able to control the movement of his hips as his whole body began to burn and throb. "Ah…Allis!" he cried finally, crashing backwards onto the bed as Allis took his juices into his mouth. He lay there, panting and still not in full command of his faculties, as Allis settled down next to him on the bed.

"Are you alright?" Allis asked with a huge grin on his face.

"Oh…" Alistair mumbled incoherently, "that was…that was…oh, Maker!"

"Good!" Allis replied, as Alistair propped himself up on an elbow, still giddy, and leaned over, taking Allis' mouth in a robust kiss, forcing the elf onto his back. Alistair pulled away gently and ran his hands down Allis' chest.

"Now, what can I do for you?" he asked suggestively.

"Well…" Allis replied, biting his lip, "may I…what we talked about?" he asked hesitantly, "only if you're ready though. You don't have to."

Alistair grinned shyly. "Alright," he replied, "but just a little bit at first."

"Of course, Alistair," Allis replied, feeling himself stiffen painfully as he looked around the room.

"Hair oil, top drawer," Alistair instructed, knowing what was on Allis' mind.

Allis leaned over and retrieved a small bottle of scented oil from the drawer as Alistair turned onto his side. Coating his palm, he lay flush against Alistair's back and coated his shaft with the oil, before placing his hand between Alistair's buttocks and gently massaging. "Are you sure about this, Alistair?" he whispered, his breath already catching just at the thought of what was to come.

"Yes, Allis," Alistair replied, rolling onto his stomach. "Go easy on me," he chuckled.

Allis knelt between Alistair's legs and stroked down the length of his back, placing one hand on Alistair's shoulder to afford purchase. With his other hand, he placed his shaft at Alistair's entrance. "Ready, Alistair?" he asked breathlessly.

"Mm-hmm," Alistair replied.

"Let me know if you want me to stop," Allis whispered, as he positioned himself and edged forward a tiny amount. Seeing that Alistair remained comfortable, he eased himself in a little further, grasping Alistair's shoulder firmly and grimacing as a fire raged in his belly. "Are you alright?" he asked, panting.

"I'm fine," replied Alistair, feeling nothing but a stretching sensation, "keep going."

Allis moaned and bit his lip as he eased himself in further, desperately fighting the urge to thrust. "Keep going," Alistair whispered.

Allis grasped Alistair's hip and shoulder and pressed himself further in, as slowly as he could, all the time watching Alistair's face for signs of discomfort. "That's enough," Alistair said, "but I'm fine, Allis."

"Thank you, Alistair," he moaned, and tensed his thighs, making tiny movements with his hips, "thank you…"

Allis' eyes flew open and he cried out sharply as Alistair tensed his muscles once. "Alistair! Do that again! Please!" he cried. Alistair grinned and started to tighten his muscles, building into a slow rhythm as Allis panted frantically, a deep growl emanating from his throat. He plastered himself against Alistair's back, one arm wrapped around his belly, the other grabbing his hair as he devoured the Templar's neck and shoulders. Alistair began rocking his hips back and forth and Allis, unable to control himself any longer, started to thrust as Alistair pulled him deeper in and tensed faster and faster.

"Oh!" Allis cried as every nerve ending on his body became inflamed, and with one final thrust, filled Alistair with his seed. "Alistair…"he groaned as he withdrew and collapsed onto his back.

Alistair turned himself over to face Allis, who lay spent and exhausted on his back. "Are you alright, Alistair?" he asked weakly.

"Yes," Alistair grinned, "that was quite fun, actually!"

"Really?" Allis laughed as Alistair wrapped his arms around him.

"Mm-hmm," Alistair mumbled, "in fact, I think I'd quite like to have a go."

"That's wonderful," Allis grinned, "just…give me a few years to recover, first!"

"Not a chance," Alistair laughed, "you've got an hour!"

O~~~~~~~~~O

Blythe, after unsuccessfully trying to sleep for what seemed like hours, pulled herself up and sat on the edge of the bed, pouring herself a glass of water. The notched candle she had lit before retiring had only burned down a little; indicating that only half an hour or so had passed. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

_Dead mages Demon Cullen Jowan_

She opened her eyes abruptly and shook her head in the hope it would dismiss the images that troubled her, and walked over to the window, looking in the direction of the Circle Tower; although in the gloom she could not see it. She glanced over at her bed. Although she felt overwhelmed by tiredness, she was afraid to close her eyes, as each time she did, images of what she had witnessed at the Tower rudely forced themselves into her mind's eye, and refused to leave. She pulled on her robe and exited the room, walking up the hallway toward Cullen's room.

Upon reaching his door, she hesitated for a moment before knocking three times.

"Who is it?" Cullen called.

"It's Blythe," she answered, "may I come in?"

"Erm, just…just a second," he replied as he covered himself up. "Alright, you can come in now."

Blythe looked around and turned the knob, entering Cullen's room and closing the door behind her. He was sitting up in bed, a sheet pulled over his bare chest. "I didn't wake you, did I?" Blythe asked apologetically.

"Oh, no," Cullen replied, "I was just dozing. "Is…everything alright?"

"I can't sleep," she murmured, walking over to the bed, "and was wondering if I could get in with you?"

"Erm…I…" Cullen said hesitantly, clearing his throat.

"I promise not to ravish you," Blythe grinned shyly, "I just wanted to wake up next to the real you, that's all."

"The _real _me?" Cullen exclaimed, his stutter gone, "what do you mean by that?"

"Oh, take no notice of me," Blythe replied hastily, "I'm tired and don't know what I'm saying."

"Come on, then," Cullen said as he pulled the bedcovers back, watching her expression carefully as she sat on the bed. "Erm, I'd better let you know before you get in…" he warned, "I'm not wearing anything under here."

Blythe grinned as she swung her legs into the bed, keeping her robe on. "You're lucky I'm so tired," she replied, stifling a yawn, "any other time I may have broken my promise not to ravish you."

Cullen threw the covers back over her, and leaned on his elbow as she snuggled close to his chest. "Blythe," he said softly, "what…happened to you in the Tower?"

Blythe sighed and closed her eyes, realising that the haunting images were no longer there. "I will tell you, Cullen," she promised, "but not tonight, hm?"

"Alright," he agreed, kissing her cheek. "Listen," he said quietly, "I want you to stop calling me Cullen. It reminds me of when we were at the Tower. I want you to call me by my first name."

She looked up at him. "Oh, you mean Sebastian?" she grinned.

"What? How did you…" he spluttered, then broke into a grin of his own. "Alistair," he said wryly.

"That's correct, Sebastian," she giggled, wrapping her arms around him. "I think it rather suits you, actually."

"Really?" he murmured, drawing his head closer to hers.

"Really, Sebas…" Blythe replied, unable to finish her sentence as Cullen's mouth covered her own in a deep, sweet kiss. She moaned as he drew away and stroked her cheek.

"Goodnight, Blythe," Cullen whispered, gathering her into his arms.

"Goodnight, Sebastian," she replied, before muttering "bloody tease," causing them both to laugh. Finally together, they relaxed and closed their eyes, and Blythe snuggled against his chest, softly lulled to sleep by the sound of his beating heart.

.


	22. Building bridges in the mud

**Hi and thank you to my newest reviewers, elvenlover and Dark-Huntress Moony, and thank you so much to my regular reviewers for your kindness!**

**Best thanks of all go to my wonderful friend and Beta Reader Jen! **

**Go, Team Zevran! (And Team Massani! :P)**

**O~~~~~~~~~O**

The companions rose early the next day, as many preparations were needed for their forthcoming journey. At Teagan's behest, they were provided with ample dried food and provisions to last for at least a week, and the mages were given ingredients from which they could make potions. Their weapons were sharpened at the Smithy, and they were provided with cloaks and warm clothing, which Blythe's group would need in particular, as they planned to travel through the Frostback Mountains.

Teagan told them that Redcliffe Castle was at their disposal to use as a base of operations, and informed the Captain of the Guard that all ten of them were free to come and go as they pleased. Blythe and Alistair promised to write regularly to Teagan, to inform him of their progress; and whichever party returned to Redcliffe first would know how the other party was faring from the contents of the letters.

After a huge lunch at the Castle, and not a small amount of wine, the companions were seen off by Teagan and the Revered Mother from the Chantry, who blessed them and wished them luck on their journey, and provided each of them with a pendant bearing Andraste's holy symbol. Only Sten, Zevran and Morrigan declined to wear their pendant, although they accepted it for the sake of politeness.

They set off in poor weather; the sky had been overcast all morning, and drizzle fell on them as they walked. Conversation was minimal, except for the occasional moan about the weather. Soon, however, the conversation flowed freely; mainly consisting of curse words, as a torrential downpour began.

They trudged on for a few more hours as the sky grew darker. Unanimously deciding they'd had enough, the companions found a secluded dell and started to set up camp, hoping the trees would afford some shelter from the rain. As they began to pitch their tents, the rain finally stopped.

A makeshift washing line was made from a piece of rope tied between two trees, and a small fire was lit beneath it. Leliana, Zevran and the mages changed into fresh clothes and hung their tunics and robes over the rope to dry. Only Sten, Cullen and Alistair remained dry; their armour protecting them from the elements. Reaper quickly became a menace, shaking himself off in front of everyone, then running away barking, his tail wagging, as they protested. Allis and Blythe eventually chased him down and dried him off with an old blanket after Sten threatened to skewer him.

The group finally settled down, and Anders, proclaiming himself to be the best cook, began to prepare dinner. Blythe and Cullen sat at the edge of the camp, away from the others, and appeared to be having a very sober discussion, so their companions left them alone. Anders noticed that Zevran was watching them intently, and walked over to speak to him.

"Wonder what they're talking about, eh?" he said quietly as he sat down a short distance from the elf. Mr. Wiggums followed him and curled up next to Zevran's firepit.

"Hmm," Zevran murmured, nodding his head.

"They're very sweet together, aren't they?" Anders remarked with a grin.

"Sweet?" Zevran replied, his reverie broken as he glanced at the mage. "Yes, I suppose they are." He shifted round to face Anders. "There is one thing I do not understand, however," he muttered.

"Oh?" Anders asked, "what's that, then?"

"Well, here is the thing," Zevran said with a frown, "from what I understand, those two are in love with each other, yes?" Anders nodded. "And they were parted from one another, then reunited recently."

"That's right," Anders replied.

Zevran's frown grew deeper. "So, why do they waste time with chit-chat?" he wondered. "Why has he not taken her to his tent and ravished her? Is this a Fereldan thing?"

Anders threw his head back and laughed. "No, no, my dear fellow," he replied, still chuckling as he spoke, "it's a _Templar _thing. Cullen, and all Templars, have to take a vow of celibacy."

Zevran looked horrified. "Celibacy?" he exclaimed, "you jest with me, surely!" Anders grinned and shook his head. "Celibacy?" Zevran repeated, "such a thing is an affront to nature! How could one inflict such torture upon another person?"

"Well, they do," Anders replied with a shrug. "The Templars are supposed to give up all worldly pleasures to show their devotion to the Maker."

"So does this mean they can never be together in that way?" Zevran asked, surprised that he felt rather sad at the thought.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Anders replied slyly. "Cullen has pretty much rejected the Chantry and most of his vows, now, but he's still a deeply religious man. Blythe will have her work cut out, I can tell you."

Zevran stretched his legs out and leaned back on his elbows. Anders stole a quick glance at the elf's legs before returning his eyes to Zevran's face. "Perhaps," Zevran said thoughtfully, "we can give him a little nudge, hm?"

"A nudge?" asked Anders, intrigued. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well," Zevran sighed, "I think before we all go our separate ways, you and I should talk to him – give him the benefit of our experience, no? I have a feeling that you are well versed in the act of love, as am I."

"I know my way around a woman, if that's what you mean," Anders grinned. "So you think we should give him a few pointers, then?"

"Si," Zevran replied. "Although you are his friend – do you think he would be receptive to such counsel?"

Anders chuckled to himself. "Well, there's a slight chance his head might explode," he laughed, "but I think it's worth the risk. I have to say though, Zevran, I'm surprised that you would want to help him."

"Oh?" asked Zevran, cocking an eyebrow, "why is that?"

"Well," Anders sighed, "I could be wrong, but I sense that you have a…soft spot for our Blythe. Just a couple of things I've picked up on. Am I wrong?"

Zevran stared into the distance. "No, you are not wrong, my friend," he replied quietly, "but I know that she wants to be with him." He sighed and sat up, gathering his knees to his chest. "Although it saddens me, I have accepted it, and I wish for her to be happy," he continued, "and…content, if you get my meaning."

"I do, Zevran," Anders replied, "and I think you're a very generous man."

"Call me Zev," he replied with a hint of a smile, nodding over to Blythe and Cullen. "When they have finished their discussion, we shall speak to him, yes? And you can deal with any explosions that may occur. You are a healer, after all."

"I'm not _that _good a healer!" Anders laughed as he rose to his feet. "I'm going to give the stew a stir. Give me a shout when you're ready."

"Si, I will," Zev replied as he watched Anders walk away.

~O~

"You had _children_?" Cullen asked in astonishment, as Blythe recounted her experience with the demon in her Fade dream.

"Three of them," she replied, "and they all looked like you. That's when I knew something was wrong. I can't have children, you see. Well, there's a slim chance, but not much of one."

"Oh, Blythe…I'm so sorry," Cullen said sadly, stroking her hair. "Why is that?"

Blythe looked around. "I shouldn't really tell you this," she whispered, "but it's to do with being a Grey Warden. One of the…side effects, as it were."

"Side effects?" he replied, a deep crease forming between his eyes, "what exactly do they do to you?"

"I can't tell anyone, Sebastian," she said apologetically. "We're sworn to secrecy."

Cullen nodded and was silent for a moment. "Alright," he said eventually. "So what else happened in the dream?"

"Well, I noticed that the demon's eyes were green," she replied, "and I know that yours are not, so I had further doubts."

"And what made you finally realise it wasn't real?" Cullen asked.

Blythe's head sank back against her shoulders as she looked up at the sky. "He was…aggressive with me," she murmured.

Cullen's eyes widened in horror. "Aggressive?" he said abruptly. "Did he…did he hurt you?"

"No," she replied, half-truthfully, "he just frightened me, that's all. That's when I knew it couldn't be you. It was Allis who engaged the demon, so I wasn't injured, and then," she added, eager to change the subject, "he saved everyone else from their dreams, and we all engaged the Sloth Demon together."

"And then you went on to defeat Uldred," Cullen summarised, as Blythe had already told him that part, "and Jowan saved you all." Blythe nodded and exhaled audibly, closing her eyes and leaning on Cullen's shoulder.

"You've been through so much Blythe," Cullen whispered softly to her.

She sat up and looked at him. "We both have," she replied, taking his hand. "But we're together, now, and with you, I feel I can cope with anything."

"As do I," Cullen replied, smiling softly at her, and moved closer, cupping her face in his hands as he kissed her lips.

"Grub's up!" Anders called from across the camp, and everyone gravitated toward the huge pot of stew he'd made.

~O~

After dinner, it was decided that two people would take an hour's watch each, as there were so many of them, while the rest slept; and they would set off before sunrise, as their progress up to then had been poor. They played 'stone, scissors, paper' to decide the order. Morrigan and Sten were up first, followed by Allis and Zevran, Blythe and Leliana, Anders and Reaper, and finally, Alistair and Cullen, who would prepare an early breakfast.

Blythe approached Cullen before he went to his tent. "May I…sleep with you again, Sebastian?" she asked awkwardly, twisting her fingers. "It was nice to wake up together this morning, wasn't it?"

"It was nice," he replied bashfully, "but can I trust you?" he added with a grin.

Blythe held one hand up. "My promise not to ravish you, stands. Mage's honour," she vowed. "For now," she added cheekily.

"Very well," he chuckled, "come on, then."

"I'll be in shortly," she replied. "I'm just going to help Morrigan."

Before everyone turned in, Morrigan and Blythe walked around the perimeter of the camp, placing magical wards on the ground; if an intruder were to cross them, the women would know immediately. Whilst doing this, Blythe happened to notice Cullen being ushered into Zevran's tent, closely followed by Anders.

"I wonder what they're up to?" she asked Morrigan, pointing over at the tent.

A sly grin formed on Morrigan's face. "Methinks, perchance, that they are making your Chantry boy aware of a few facts of life," she surmised.

"Facts of life…?" Blythe replied. "You-you don't mean…"

"I do, indeed," Morrigan replied.

"But he'll…" Blythe uttered.

"Expire from shock?" Morrigan teased, "that seems most likely, yes."

Blythe continued to stare at the tent for a few moments, hiding from Morrigan the look of delight that had slowly spread to her face.

~O~

Cullen entered his tent sometime later, looking rather flustered. Blythe had brought her bedroll in and placed the two together. She had changed into a loose-fitting shift and leggings, and lay dozing underneath the blankets.

"Hello," she murmured sleepily, looking at him through half-closed eyelids.

"Did I wake you?" he whispered. She shook her head and sat up.

"Why is your face red, Sebastian?" she asked with a grin, already suspecting the answer.

"Is it red?" he asked innocently, touching his cheek, before chuckling and shaking his head.

"I'm not even going to ask," she grinned, not wanting to embarrass him further. "Come on, let's get you out of those clothes," she said as she began to unbutton his shirt.

"Erm, Blythe…" he stammered, silenced by Blythe's finger resting on his lips.

"I've seen your chest before," she said with a wink. "I think I can manage to contain myself."

"I'm just not sure that I can," he muttered, as she pulled his shirt down his arms.

"Oh?" she said, her eyes lighting up, as he pulled his boots off, "is that a fact?"

"Now, you promised, Blythe," he chuckled as she ran her fingers down his chest.

"But you're _so _irresistible," she purred, moving her hands to his arms and grasping his biceps. "Mmm…" she moaned.

Cullen started giggling and hung his head down. "You _promised_!" he protested weakly.

"Oh, alright, spoilsport," she teased, taking his hands and moving them to the buttons on her shift. "Help me with this…" she whispered.

"What?" he gulped, "b-but…"

"I promised not to ravish you," she reminded him, "and I have no intention of going back on my word. I just want to…_play_ a little, that's all," she said, her eyes dancing.

"Play?" he mumbled, a shy smile forming on his lips. "You want to play with me?"

Blythe nodded and positioned herself so they were facing each other, she sitting and him on his knees between her legs. She replaced his hands onto the top of her shift. Cullen exhaled sharply and tentatively began to undo the buttons.

"You're very privileged, you know," she said softly. "You're about to see what no other man has ever laid eyes upon."

Cullen stopped what he was doing. "Do you mean you're a…virgin?" he asked, eyes wide.

"You seem surprised," she teased, feigning hurt.

"No!" he blustered, "no, I'm not surprised…well, I _am_…erm, wait…that came out wrong," he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "What I _mean_ to say is…I'm surprised that a woman as…beautiful and…well, wonderful as yourself has not been snapped up before now."

"Good save!" she exclaimed, and they both laughed. Cullen bit his bottom lip and continued to undo her buttons, his breathing becoming heavier as he reached the bottom, and the swell of her breasts became visible.

Blythe, suddenly feeling shy, folded her arms across her chest and giggled, before climbing under the blankets and covering herself up. Cullen, both touched and bolstered by her innocence, climbed in after her and lay atop her, shuddering as he felt their bare skin touch.

"You don't play fair, you know, you little tease!" Cullen chided, both of them laughing as Blythe had now taken the dominating role. Cullen's smile melted away as he gazed into her eyes and gently clasped her head, running his thumb down her cheek. Blythe closed her eyes and sighed, running her hands along his shoulders and down his back. She felt his warm breath against her mouth as he drew nearer to her, and raised her head a little to meet him, their lips touching, sending warm waves of delight through them both. He moaned and inhaled sharply as she removed his hand from her face and moved it down to her breast.

He broke the kiss and hovered just above her mouth, breathing heavily, as he gently squeezed her soft flesh, feeling her nipple harden against his palm. He moved his thumb and gently stroked it, watching Blythe with joy as her head fell back and she closed her eyes, a plaintive whimper escaping her lips. "That's so nice…" she groaned, "I like that."

He laughed as he felt Blythe's hand move to his leggings. "Naughty girl," he scolded, bringing her hand back up and placing it onto his shoulder.

"You are so cruel to me," she laughed.

"But you love me anyway," he whispered as he kissed her once more.

~O~

Sten poked the fire with his sword, wondering where the witch had disappeared to, when he spied a lone wolf wandering into camp. "Vashedan!" he muttered to himself, lifting his sword and slowly heading in its direction. He stopped abruptly as the wolf was bathed in a dim light, and grew taller, morphing into the shape of a person.

"Do not be afraid, 'tis only I," Morrigan said as she walked toward Sten.

"I was _not_ afraid," he said bluntly.

"Well, well," Morrigan purred, glancing in the direction of Cullen's tent, "'twould appear that the boy did not expire from shock after all."

"You were eavesdropping on them?" Sten asked with disgust on his face.

"I could not help but overhear," she protested, not entirely convincingly. "I happened to be walking past their tent, and heard laughter and groans of pleasure. 'Twould seem that the Templar has taken the men's advice to heart!"

"I do not understand all of this dancing around you humans do in pursuit of a mate," Sten snorted. "If a Qunari desires someone, they take them."

"What," Morrigan chided, "no flowers, no wine and song?"

"None of those things are necessary," he replied. "Once I have made my intentions clear, the female is already in my bed."

"So," Morrigan wondered, "the female has no choice, is that it?"

"Choice," Sten said simply, "is a word for humans. It does not apply to my people."

"Well," Morrigan replied, "I would not simply 'take' a human female, were I you. The consequences may be unpleasant."

"I would not lay with a human female," Sten replied, "as she would not survive the encounter."

Morrigan's eyes lit up. "Really?" she drawled, sashaying closer to the enormous Qunari. "That sounds like a challenge to me."

"It was not, I assure you," Sten said abruptly, walking over toward the tents. "It is time to wake the elves."

"Change the subject, if you wish," Morrigan replied slyly. "We shall have plenty of time to discuss the matter further on our travels," she said as she headed toward Allis and Alistair's tent.

Sten stood outside Zevran's tent and glared at her. "Wake up, assassin!" he bellowed.

"Oy!" Anders protested from inside his tent, "you're supposed to wake those on the next watch, not the whole flipping lot of us!"

"It's alright, Morrigan," Allis called as he clambered from his tent. "We're awake, now." He stood and stretched as Reaper bounded out and began sniffing excitedly around the camp. "Anything exciting happened?" he asked, "besides you trying to cop off with Sten, that is?" he laughed sleepily. "Yes, I did hear that."

"No," she grinned, "naught more exciting than that."

"Good," he replied, scratching his head as he walked over to the fire. Zevran had already begun to make some coffee, so Allis took Reaper for a scout around the perimeter of the camp.

Finding nothing of note, they returned to Zevran, to find a mug of coffee waiting for Allis, and a bowl of water and some scraps for Reaper.

"Thank you, Zevran," Allis said as he took his coffee and sat down next to the fire. Reaper wagged his tail before tucking into his scraps.

"Prego," Zevran replied, and the two elves sat in silence for a while as they drank.

Allis set his mug down and looked over toward Zevran. "That was a very nice thing you did for Cullen," he said, rubbing his hands and holding them over the fire.

"You know of that?" Zevran replied with a frown.

"One thing you'll have get used to when travelling with mages," Allis grinned, "is that nothing gets past them."

"Yes," Zevran replied dryly, "I am beginning to see that," then he sighed. "Life is too brief and precious to walk around with bitterness in one's heart," he said quietly.

"Zevran," Allis said after a few moments, "I…I was…wrong about you. I think you're a pretty decent man."

"Ho!" Zevran exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. "Is this an apology from the group leader?"

"Yes," Allis shrugged. "I'm not too proud to admit I was wrong. I'm sorry, Zevran," he said, extending his hand to the assassin.

Zevran grinned and shook Allis' hand. "There is no need to apologise," he replied generously. "It is hardly surprising you did not trust me at first. I did try to kill you, after all."

"Well, the jury's still out on whether you intend to follow that through," Allis quipped, "but at least now if I get a knife in the back I'll be satisfied that it was a decent man who did it."

Zevran's shoulders shook as he laughed. "And that is a comforting thought, no?" he chuckled.

"Very much so!" Allis replied with a smile.

"So, tell me," Zevran enquired, his expression once more becoming serious, "is this why you brought me along to travel with you? As a way of extending an olive branch?"

"Partly," Allis sighed, "but the main reason was…well, I thought it would be good for you to spend some time away from…you know."

Zevran nodded. "Si," he said simply, took a deep breath, and nodded again.

~O~

Leliana and Blythe took the next watch, and Reaper remained with them, although he lay sprawled out next to the fire, twitching and whimpering as he slept. Blythe helped herself to some leftover stew, and asked Leliana if she would like some; she declined.

"You have a very hearty appetite," Leliana observed, "as do your fellow Wardens. Is this a trait of Grey Wardens?"

Blythe nodded, unable to speak, as her mouth was full. "Well," Leliana laughed, "just be careful it does not go to your belly and your hips!"

"Well, that's the funny thing," Blythe replied, having swallowed her food, "I eat twice as much as I used to, and I haven't gained any weight at all."

"Then you are indeed fortunate!" Leliana chirped, sidling closer to Blythe. "Perhaps your _friend _could also help you work off any excess, hm?"

Blythe giggled to herself and shook her head. "Oh, you are so adorable when you are shy!" Leliana teased.

"Actually, Leliana, I wanted to ask you something," Blythe said as she placed her bowl on the ground. "Something of a…delicate nature."

"Oh, now you have me curious!" the bard replied excitedly. "Please, ask!"

Blythe grinned sheepishly and it took her a few minutes to speak. "I, um…I wanted some advice."

"Yes?" Leliana replied. "Spit it out, Blythe!" she said cheerfully.

Blythe took a deep breath. "I want to know…how to…pleasure a man."

"Any man?" Leliana asked with a cheeky grin, "or did you have a particular man in mind?"

"Stop it!" Blythe laughed as she nudged Leliana in the ribs. "You know who I mean!"

"Alright," Leliana grinned, "I shall stop teasing you. So you do not know what to do, hm?"

"Well," Blythe replied, "I know where to place my hand, if that's what you mean. Beyond that, no – I don't have a clue."

Leliana grasped her chin and stroked down the side of her face with her index finger. "Well, you _could _use your hand, I suppose…" she said thoughtfully, "or…you could use your mouth."

"My-my _mouth_?" Blythe exclaimed. "I…hadn't even thought of that." She fell silent for a moment. "Well, which is best?" she asked.

Leliana laughed and shook her head. "Oh, my darling girl, you are so adorably innocent!" she chirped, patting Blythe's face with her hand. "Using the hand will win you points, that is for certain," she answered, leaning closer to Blythe, "but the mouth will win you first prize every time!" she whispered.

"Really?" Blythe smiled shyly, her eyes wide. "Tell me how?"

Leliana meshed her fingers together and stretched her arms. "Listen carefully, my sweet," she said softly. "This will be a lot to take in."

~O~

Anders lay on his back next to the fire. Reaper slept next to him, resting his head on the mage's legs, and Mr. Wiggums lay curled up on his chest. Cullen stood over them, with his arms folded and a wry grin on his face.

"Anders!" he shouted. The mage snorted and sat bolt upright, causing Mr. Wiggums to slide down to the ground with a displeased mew.

"Er…oh, hello, Cullen," he said blearily, rubbing his eyes.

"Weren't you supposed to be keeping watch?" Cullen asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, I was!" Anders replied, "I was just, erm…resting my eyes?"

"Whatever you say," Cullen chuckled, shaking his head.

"Hang on a minute," Anders said as he got to his feet, "I recall _you _falling asleep on watch when we were escaping from the Tower, remember?"

"No, I don't remember that," Cullen replied dubiously.

"Bollocks," Anders muttered under his breath as they walked over to Alistair, who was making breakfast, and had decided on the safe option of porridge.

"You do know it's a sin to utter curse words on the last day of the week, don't you, Anders?" Cullen scolded with a grin.

"And I suppose _you _know it's a sin for a Templar to escape the Tower and take up with a mage?" Anders replied laconically, "_and _share their tent?"

"You've got me there!" Cullen replied with a shrug.

"So," Anders said casually, "did you get a chance to put any of our advice into practice last night?"

Cullen cleared his throat and turned pink. "A little," he murmured, smiling coyly.

"Good lad!" Anders replied proudly, heartily slapping the Templar's back.

"Do I even want to know what this conversation's about?" asked Alistair as the other two approached.

"Probably not," replied Cullen. "I'm going for a run before breakfast. I'll dispel those wards while I'm at it."

"Right," Alistair replied as Cullen headed toward the trees. "I'll wake the others up in a bit."

Anders watched as Cullen broke into a jog and disappeared. "Just you and me, eh?" he said awkwardly.

"So it would seem," Alistair replied without looking up as he stirred the pot and added some sugar. Anders walked back and forth a little, kicking the ground occasionally as Alistair paid rapt attention to his porridge.

"I think this is what they call an uncomfortable silence," Anders laughed nervously, turning to face Alistair. "Look, I know we got off to a bad start," he said with a slight grimace. "The way I greeted Allis at Redcliffe…well, that was just me being an arse. I didn't know the two of you were together. I, erm…I'm sorry if I caused any ill feeling."

"Oh," Alistair replied, surprised. "Erm, well, you didn't. Oh, alright…I was a bit shocked at the time…but it's alright now."

"Really?" Anders said happily. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Alistair grinned softly, feeling a little ashamed, "it would be nice for us to get along, especially as we're going to be spending a lot of time together on the road."

"That's wonderful!" Anders exclaimed brightly. "I'd like that too." Alistair smiled and nodded his head at the mage.

"Tell you what," Anders said, "I'll wake everyone up. No! Even better…Reaper can wake them up! Come on, boy!"

Alistair laughed at the annoyed exclamations and curses that sounded as the Mabari lumbered into each person's tent, rudely waking them up, as they all prepared to take their last journey together for a while.


	23. Mixed fortunes

**Hi and thank you to my newest reviewers, EvilValenStrife, elvenlover and jenncgf! Thanks for your kind words!**

**A massive thank you to those who review regularly: Jen4306, Shakespira, CCBug, Nithu, Kazzyb59, voltagelisa, and Dark-Huntress Moony. You have no idea how much your support means to me!**

**Thanks and love always to my dear friend Jen for your wonderful editing skills and for keeping me sane during a recent ordeal! ;)**

**Oh, and CCBug – I was drinking evil revenge tea when I wrote this chapter!**

O~~~~~~~~~O

The companions dismantled their camp and set out while it was still dark. The weather was favourable to them this time, and they made good progress along the Imperial Highway. A sombre mood fell on the party as the Circle Tower passed them to the west; and although it remained in their visual field for at least half an hour, Allis and Blythe could not bring themselves to look directly at it. Cullen glanced over, though, if only to admire the sunrise. The forbidding and austere Tower looked almost beautiful against the salmon and golden hues on the horizon, that melted away as the eye travelled upward, giving way to the pale grey expanse of the sky.

They finally reached the point where the Imperial Highway met the North Road to Denerim, and it was time for the companions to part ways. Much hand-shaking and embracing ensued, and there were a few tears from Blythe, and, surprisingly, from Alistair, although he pretended to have grit in his eye.

He and Cullen embraced and slapped each another's shoulders. "Look after her, Sebastian," Alistair said as Blythe approached, "and you look after him!" he chuckled.

"I will," she promised as she looked up at Alistair with tears in her eyes. "I've become so fond of you, Alistair," she said as she embraced him. "Please be careful."

"You too," Alistair replied. "See you soon," he said emphatically, forcing a grin, as he walked away.

Blythe and Allis walked up to one another, and, unable to find words, wrapped their arms around each other. Although they had only been friends for a couple of weeks, they had already forged an unbreakable bond, particularly after their experiences at the Circle Tower. Blythe kissed his cheek and slipped something into one of the pockets in his robe. "For luck," she whispered. "Don't look at it now, or we'll start blubbering!"

"Alright," he said, pulling away from her and taking a deep breath as he looked at her. "Race you back to Redcliffe!" he challenged with a chuckle.

"You're on!" she agreed. "Last one back to Redcliffe has to kiss Reaper, on the mouth, with tongues!"

Allis burst out laughing. "I'll hold you to that, Blythe!" he promised, then looked around for Reaper. The Mabari sat a short distance away, listening intently to Sten, who was crouched down, talking to him. Allis walked over to them. "Sten, may I speak with you for a moment?" he asked.

"What is it, Warden?" Sten replied as he straightened up.

Allis led Sten a distance away. "Blythe is the leader of your group, Sten," Allis reminded him.

"I am aware of that, Warden," he replied.

"I want to make something very clear," Allis warned. "If I hear that you have threatened her, drawn your sword against her, or harmed one hair on her head, the Fade itself will not be big enough for you to hide in," he stated menacingly. "Do you understand me?"

"Completely, Warden," Sten replied, "although I may not agree with some of her decisions, and if that is the case, I shall not remain silent."

"Good," Allis nodded. "You should speak your mind; in fact, Blythe will probably ask for your opinions. But, if you do disagree with any of her decisions, you will _not _threaten or challenge her."

"I understand," Sten replied.

"Good luck to you on your travels, Sten," Allis said, offering his hand. Sten shook it, and nodded curtly, before turning and heading towards Blythe and the others in his group.

Cullen, Anders and Zevran stood huddled in a tight circle. Blythe watched them intently, but couldn't make out what was being said. "Now, remember what we told you, Cullen," Anders whispered. "Especially about 'the magic button.' You can forget the rest, but _not _that!"

Cullen laughed and turned crimson. "I won't," he promised, shaking his head. Before they finally parted, Zevran ran up to Cullen and whispered something in his ear. Cullen laughed again, as did Zevran, as he ran back to his group.

"What did you whisper to him?" Anders asked as they started their journey along the North Road. Noticing that Allis and Alistair's ears were twitching, he beckoned Anders to lean down, and whispered in the mage's ear.

"Oh, _that_!" Anders exclaimed with a huge grin. "I forgot about _that_!" The two of them burst out laughing as Allis and Alistair exchanged puzzled glances.

~O~

It took four days for Allis' group to reach Denerim; they had made camp for short periods only and pressed on during the night, spurred on by the thought of sleeping in a warm bed at one of the City's many inns. They encountered two disorganised groups of bandits along the North Road who posed them little trouble.

They drew many stares and gasps as they entered the City, as all of them – with the exception of Anders - were caked in dried blood. Anders glanced around nervously as they passed the Chantry; although he was now masquerading as a Grey Warden – at least as far as the Chantry was concerned - he wouldn't put anything past the Templars.

They passed a harried-looking Guard Sergeant and watched with amusement as he berated two thick-looking soldiers and sent them packing, delivering a swift kick to one of their backsides as they left.

"Excuse me, Sergeant," Allis said politely, intending to ask him where Brother Genitivi's house was located.

"Good day, Wardens," he replied. "How may I assist you?"

"Wait…you know who we are?" asked Alistair, glancing around.

"Yes," the Sergeant replied. "A likeness of the two of you was passed around amongst the men. I have orders to take you into custody."

Seeing that the Sergeant was making no moves to arrest them, Allis spoke carefully. "I mean no disrespect, Sergeant," he said, "but we will resist any attempts to arrest us."

"Yes, yes," the Sergeant replied, exasperated. "Excuse me for a moment," he said, and walked over to an approaching soldier, yelled at him and cuffed him around the ear. The four men exchanged glances as he returned.

"Kylon's the name," he said, "and I have no intention of arresting two Grey Wardens." He lowered his voice a little. "Not all of us believe Teyrn Loghain's claims about your Order," he whispered as he looked around. "Besides which, I have enough on my plate with these illegitimate whelps I'm supposed to turn into soldiers. Just keep the peace while you're here. That's all I ask."

"Thank you kindly, Sergeant," Allis replied gratefully, and asked directions to Brother Genitivi's house, and if Kylon knew of any paid work going in Denerim, as they were in need of money.

"Well, there's always the Chanter's board," Kylon replied, moving a little closer to Allis and lowering his voice again. "Actually, there are a few matters I need taken care of," he intoned, "which would be _far _too dangerous for my lily-livered boys to deal with," he said wearily. "If you're willing, I would reward you for your trouble. You fellows look like you can handle yourselves."

Allis quickly looked at his companions, who all nodded in approval, before turning back to Kylon. "Sign us up Sergeant!" he grinned. "What do you need us to do?"

"Thank you," Kylon replied. "There's a whorehouse in the city by the name of The Pearl. A band of mercenaries have moved in and are causing trouble and refusing to leave. Sanga, the Proprietor, would like the louts drummed out of there. You can rough them up a bit, if necessary," he warned, "but no killing. Let me make that absolutely clear."

Before Allis could reply, Anders piped up. "Oh, I think we can take care of that, don't you Zev?" he said to the assassin, who nodded enthusiastically. "Meet you back here later, say, at the Gnawed Noble?" Anders said to Allis as he and Zev walked away.

"Wait!" Kylon exclaimed. "You will need directions!"

"Oh, it's alright," Anders replied. "I, erm…I have an idea of where it might be."

"It's very _generous _of you to do this, Anders, I must say!" Allis called after them, suppressing a laugh.

"What can I say? I'm just that kind of a guy," Anders chirped back. "Anything to help the community!" he laughed as he and Zev raced one another to the City gates.

Taking their leave of Kylon, Allis and Alistair followed his directions to Genitivi's house.

"Wait," Alistair said suddenly, placing his hand on Allis' arm. "That house over there," he said, pointing toward a run-down shack next to a shop named Wade's Emporium. "That's…my sister's house," he said quietly. "I'm sure of it."

"Really?" Allis replied, watching Alistair carefully. "Do you want to go and see her?"

"Can we?" he asked nervously. "Wait, though…do we have time? I-I don't think we have the time…" he stammered. "We-we have a lot to do after all, a-and we have to see Genitivi…"

"Oh, no you don't!" Allis laughed, grabbing Alistair's arm and pulling him toward the house. "Wait…where's Reaper?"

They looked around and laughed to see Reaper playfully chasing some young lads in the market square. "Reaper!" Allis called, "no rough play!" Reaper barked in acknowledgement, and started running as the boys chased him. The two of them were still laughing as they approached Goldanna's house and stood outside.

"Will you come in with me, Allis?" Alistair asked nervously.

"Just try and stop me!" Allis replied, his eyes shining with excitement.

"Will she know who I am?" Alistair pondered. "Does she even know I exist? It sounds very strange, doesn't it?" he rambled. "Sister. Siiiissss-tar. Ooh, I'm all nervous now…come on, let's go. No, yes…let's just go."

"Alistair," Allis said firmly with a small smirk on his lips. "I though we had no time to spare? Just stop the rambling and get in the damned house!" he laughed, although he, too was actually very nervous for Alistair.

~O~

Zevran and Anders entered the Pearl and were greeted by Sanga, the Proprietor. "Ah, you're Kylon's boys, are you?" she asked. When Zevran nodded, she pointed over toward a group of rowdy drunks. "They call themselves the White Falcons," she sighed. "This is a quality establishment, and they're lowering the tone of the place. And," she added, "they're not using the _services _we provide. I'd be very grateful if you could show them the door."

"It will be done, Madame Sanga ," Zevran replied, he and Anders walking over to the mercenaries.

"What's all this then?" a drunken lout slurred as they approached.

"You're not wanted here," Zevran said haughtily. "Vacate the premises immediately."

The White Falcons laughed at this. "Will you listen to this knife-ear, trying to order us around?" one of them said between hiccups.

"Madame Sanga wants people of quality in here," Zevran replied. "Not riff-raff."

"Riff-raff is it?" their leader replied, swaying as he walked over to them. "We don't take orders from uppity elves!"

"You _will _do as he says," Anders said firmly, looking the man directly in the eyes. "Won't you?"

"Erm, yes…I suppose I could…" the leader mumbled.

"Hoy!" one of the drunkards called from the back. "What did you say to him?"

Anders stood closer to the leader and whispered into his ear, pointing to one of his fellow Falcons. The leader walked over to his comrade and put his hands on the man's shoulders.

"W-what are you doing, Davis?" the mercenary asked nervously, trying to back away.

"I've always fancied you, you know, Benjamin," Davis whispered lustily and leaned down for a kiss as Zev and Anders howled with laughter.

Benjamin ducked and ran to the other side of the room, terrified and humiliated. "What have you done to him?" he shrieked.

"Oh, just a little mind control," Anders said casually, chuckling at Zevran, who was doubled over with laughter. "And I can do a lot worse, you know," he threatened. "I could have you lot tearing each other's clothes off in seconds, and…_doing things_ to each other."

Like magic, the White Falcons hurried towards the exit, some of them shielding their eyes from Anders' hypnotic gaze. As they left, the hapless Davis was still professing his ardour for Benjamin, and a fist fight ensued outside. Sanga firmly closed the door, washing her hands of the White Falcons. "What they do outside is their business," she smirked. "Now, boys, how can I thank you?"

"How about a freebie for my friend and I?" Anders asked cheekily, winking at Zev, who was wiping tears from his eyes.

"I suppose it's the least I can do," Sanga replied. "I happen to have two girls available now, if that's what you want?"

"I don't really mind," Anders said, pointedly making his preferences know to Zev.

"And neither do I," Zev replied, with a crafty glance at the mage.

"Carrie, Isabelle," Sanga called, and two lovely young ladies appeared from an anteroom. "We have two gentlemen here who would like to become acquainted with you." The two girls, upon seeing the handsome mage and elf, started giggling and clasped each other's hands in congratulations.

Before Zevran and Anders could choose, the entrance door opened and a repulsive, fat, sweaty man entered, carrying a bag. One of the girls' eyes widened in horror. "Oh, no…" she moaned.

"Carrie," Sanga called over. "Mr. Douglas is here, and he's asking for you," she said, beckoning the girl over.

"But-but what about the other two?" she pleaded.

"They're not paying customers," Sanga whispered. "Mr Douglas is, and he's brought his 'bag of tricks' with him. That means we can charge extra."

"Hello, my dear," Mr, Douglas leered, drooling as he revealed a row of broken, yellow teeth.

"Hello, my darling," Carrie greeted him as convincingly as she could. "Please, follow me…"

As Carrie and Mr. Douglas passed by, Zevran and Anders wrinkled their noses in disgust. Zevran brought out a handkerchief and placed it over his nose and mouth. "He does know there is an invention called soap, doesn't he?" Anders remarked.

"Well," said Sanga. "That just leaves my Isabelle. You'll have to decide between yourselves who goes with her. My next girl will be ready in about 10 minutes."

"I don't mind waiting," Anders said, "but neither do I mind becoming acquainted with the lovely Isabelle, either."

"Hmm," Zevran replied. "It would seem we are at an impasse, my friend, as I am of the same mind."

A sly glint came into Anders' eyes. "Well," he muttered. "We _could _always share, I suppose…"

"Share?" Zevran replied, looking sideways at Anders. "Well, I'm game, so long as Isabelle has no objections?"

"Objections?" she exclaimed, her eyes bulging. "You must be joking…quick!" she said excitedly as she grabbed their hands. "Come with me, before another customer comes in!"

~O~

The progress of Blythe's party had not been as straightforward as that of her fellow Wardens. They had reached Gherlen's Pass, a rudimentary path that led up the side of a mountain, leading to Orzammar. The conditions were harsh and the path treacherous; the higher they ascended, the steeper it became, and even Morrigan and Blythe's fire only melted the ice on the path for a few seconds before it began to re-crystallise.

Eventually they had to stop as heavy snow had begun to fall, and visibility was poor. Sten was even showing signs of fatigue, although he refused Blythe's offer to Rejuvenate him.

They found a cave to take shelter in, and after Cullen and Sten had scouted it and determined there were no creatures within, they decided to spend the night there. They pitched their tents, using rocks to hold them in place. Cullen and Blythe made no pretence that they would be sleeping in separate tents, as it was bitterly cold. Having nothing to use as fuel for a fire, Morrigan and Blythe cast fire upon the cave walls, raising the temperature slightly for a while. They were all very grateful for the warm clothing Teagan had gifted them, although they still shivered even while wearing them. It was going to be a hard night.

They ate dried rations for supper as they had no fire with which to cook; Blythe created some ice in one of their pots, then melted and boiled it for tea and coffee. For once, they agreed that a watch was not necessary as they were unlikely to be attacked by anything so high up in the mountains. They had not seen a single living creature along Gherlen's Pass, and they were all exhausted. As a precautionary measure, however, Blythe placed wards at the entrance of the cave.

Bidding everyone goodnight, Blythe clasped Cullen's hand and started leading him toward their tent. "Playtime," she whispered mischievously.

"Does your pet Templar require rest?" called Morrigan.

Blythe laughed. "Yes…_rest_," she replied cunningly, as Cullen turned blood red and quickened his pace.

They clambered inside the tent, Blythe still chuckling. Blythe touched the tent and their bedrolls, instantly warming them up. Cullen sat back on his heels. The tent was in darkness but Blythe could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. "She knows what we're up to!" he whispered nervously.

Blythe knelt down in front of him. "I think it's pretty obvious to everyone," she said with laughter in her voice, "but I don't care if you don't!" She reached out in the darkness to touch his burning face. Cullen felt her cold hands against his skin as she slowly dragged them through his hair and down the nape of his neck.

"Oh…" he grunted as a delicious shiver ran down his back, his embarrassment quickly forgotten.

Blythe scooted nearer and kept her hands, which had returned to their normal temperature, around his neck. "Is that better, my 'pet Templar?'" she teased.

Cullen, now more relaxed, chuckled quietly. "I hope that's not going to be my nickname from now on!" he protested.

"Oh, most definitely," Blythe jested. "I like it!"

Cullen groaned. "Well, in that case," he said, moving a little closer to Blythe, "I shall have to think of a name for you."

"Mmm," Blythe intoned, feeling Cullen's warm breath next to her mouth.

"How about… 'my forbidden mage'," he whispered, brushing his lips against hers. Blythe closed her eyes and gulped as saliva flooded her mouth. She felt one of Cullen's hands on her hip; his other clasped the back of her head and pulled her closer; his tongue gently teasing hers. With the tent in absolute darkness, she couldn't be sure if her eyes were closed or not, and she felt dizzy and disoriented. She thought that he was kissing her, but wasn't really sure of anything, as she felt giddiness and overwhelming heaviness pulling her down to the ground.

Then, Cullen's inarticulate cry roused her, and she realised she was on the ground, with him on top of her, and he _was_ kissing her, deeply and hungrily. She felt like her lungs were about to burst and broke away, panting. He laughed and kissed her on the cheek, stroking the nape of her neck with his hand.

"Where did you learn to kiss like that?" she gasped, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Didn't you know?" he joked, "it's required reading at the Chantry." Blythe laughed huskily and playfully punched his arm.

"I've been thinking about 'playtime' all day, you know," Cullen murmured, his words vibrating against her skin as he kissed her throat, taking her hand and meshing their fingers together.

"Tell me," she whispered seductively, gently stroking his hair with her other hand.

Cullen drew himself up a little, bringing his face level with hers, close enough for their lips to barely touch. "I couldn't possibly repeat that in front of a lady," he teased.

"Then show me," she pleaded. "Please, Cullen…"

"Sebastian," he chuckled.

"Sorry," she mumbled, her breathing heavy and irregular. "I can't think straight."

Cullen pushed himself up onto his knees and took her hands, pulling her up into a sitting position. "Sit up on your knees," he commanded softly.

Blythe complied with his request, imagining the conversation that must have taken place in Zev's tent, and said a silent 'thank you' to the assassin. Cullen moved behind her, and, taking the hem of her robe in his hands, started to pull it up, his hands making contact with her legs as he travelled upwards, sending shivers of anticipation through them both. He reached the soft flesh of her hips and paused for a moment, moving one hand to her belly, his breathing becoming more rapid as he blazed kisses down the back of her neck and pushed himself against her, making his arousal obvious to her. Blythe whimpered and raised her arms, inviting him to remove her robe; he did so slowly, skimming her breasts as his hands travelled further upwards.

Her robe fluttered to the ground, and Blythe brought her arms back down, taking Cullen's hands as they wrapped around her waist. He leaned close to her ear and whispered words of love to her; Blythe knew that they came from his own heart, and were not something he had learned from Zevran or Anders. He stopped for a moment and leaned back a little, bringing his hands onto her shoulders, softly tracing her outline. He could _see _her in the darkness; her skin had taken on a faint phosphorescence, and his own skin vibrated as he felt arcane energy flow from her.

His hands moving with his eyes, he took in the graceful curve of her neck, her slender shoulders; the gentle tapering of her hips from her waist. He had never seen a more glorious sight, and his eyes feasted on her as he stroked her with the back of his hand. Blythe moved around to face him, and looked him directly in the eyes as she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it down his shoulders. Cullen removed it at the cuffs and discarded it, placing his hands on her shoulders and slowly, achingly slowly, moved them down her body. Finding her breasts, he teased her nipples with his fingers, feeling them harden at his touch. Blythe rested her elbows on his shoulders, her head thrown back with abandon as his lips met her throat.

"Kiss me…" she pleaded softly. He raised his head and sought her lips, but she shook her head and gently pushed him downwards. He growled and craned his neck, raining gossamer kisses down to her breasts as he kneaded them with his hands. Blythe shifted slightly, positioning her nipple next to his mouth. "Kiss me, please," she beseeched, her voice low and breathless. Cullen's heart beat a savage rhythm in his chest as he took her into his mouth and they moaned together as she clutched his head and pushed herself against him. He withdrew suddenly as her hand sought his hardness through his breeches.

"Please, let me touch you," she whispered, desperation in her voice, as she moved closer.

"I can't, Blythe," he said sadly. "Not yet. I'm sorry."

"But why?" she asked breathlessly.

"If you touch me there, I'm afraid I'll lose control of myself," he explained.

"And what's wrong with that?" she asked gently.

He took her hands. "I don't want our first time to be in a tent, Blythe," he said softly. "I want it to be special."

"It will be," she promised, "wherever it happens…"

"I've thought of it so many times," he said, exhaling deeply, "of…you and I, being together. I don't want it to be here, with all of these people around us."

"So where were we when you thought of us?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Under the stars…" he replied fondly, "…or in a lake, or on soft grass with the breeze against our skin…or just in a nice warm bed, in complete seclusion and privacy."

"You're determined to torture me, aren't you?" she chuckled. "But I'll respect your wishes," she added, "so long as we can still play together."

Cullen grinned and nodded his head. "Of course we can," he replied. "I'm sorry, Blythe," he said quietly. "You must think me a fool."

"No, you're not a fool," she insisted. "You're a gentleman, and I love you for it."

"Blythe?" he asked quietly, "did you just say you love me?"

"Yes," she replied, softly kissing his lips.

She released one of his hands and laid down on the bedroll, gently pulling him down beside her. "Perhaps there is a way we can help each other," she offered.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

She moved one of his hands down to his breeches and pushed it inside. "Touch yourself," she whispered as she slipped her own hand inside her smallclothes, "as you watch me. And you may touch me wherever you like."

~O~

Alistair and Allis left Goldanna's house and stood outside, staring at the ground. Reaper ran up to them happily, then cocked his head and sat quietly as he realised that something was amiss.

"Well, that didn't go as expected," Alistair mumbled, a heavy frown marring his handsome features. "I suppose I was expecting her to welcome me with open arms, I mean, isn't that what families do?" he said, looking at Allis for an answer the mage didn't have. "What a naïve fool I am…" he whispered.

"You don't need her," Allis uttered, struggling to keep his anger in check. "There are others who care for you."

"Really, Allis?" Alistair said sarcastically, immediately regretting his sharpness but feeling the need to vent his feelings. "I'm a bastard. My father had nothing to do with me, my mother's dead – at _my _hands, according to Goldanna – even Eamon gave up on me. I have no one!"

"You have me, for what it's worth," Allis replied sadly. "I care for you, and so does Blythe. We think the world of you…and I…well…I…" he fell silent, afraid to speak the words that sat on the tip of his tongue.

"I know, Allis," Alistair whispered, closing his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't take it out on you."

"There's no need to apologise, Alistair," Allis said soothingly, holding his hand. "Come on," he said, "let's speak to Genitivi, round those two rascals up and get out of here."

Alistair nodded and the two of them began walking, with Reaper close behind. "Alistair?" Allis said quietly. "I'll never give up on you. I promise."

A small smile crept onto Alistair's lips as he looked at Allis. "You know, for some reason I believe you," he replied.

Allis stopped dead and stared straight ahead. "What's wrong?" Alistair asked.

"That gate there…" Allis replied. "Is that…what I think it is?"

"Oh, Maker's Breath!" Alistair exclaimed. "I'm so sorry, Allis, I completely forgot. Yes, that is Denerim's Alienage."

Allis stared blankly at the gate to his childhood home. "I wonder if any of my family are in there?" he said quietly.

Alistair put his arm around Allis' shoulders. "Would you recognise any of them?" he said gently. "You said you couldn't remember what they looked like."

Allis closed his eyes for a moment, his face a grim mask. "Actually, I do know what they look like," he replied with bitterness in his voice. "In perfect detail."

"But how?" Alistair asked.

"I never told you about my Fade dream, did I?" he said wearily. Alistair remained silent and let him speak.

"I was back at home, with my mother and father. The demon must have dug deeply to reach those memories. I had a brother and sister. My father and brother looked like me. It was perfect. We were one big happy family. I was no longer a mage, and the Templars never came for me." He fell silent for a moment.

"I don't know what made me realise it wasn't real," he continued. "I just got the feeling that although they were my family, I didn't know any of them. It felt wrong to me. I started asking questions, and eventually the demon lost patience and manifested itself."

"Thank the Maker you realised," Alistair said quietly.

"I very nearly stayed, though, Alistair," he replied. "I was so close to staying."

They noticed a sign nailed to the wall outside the Alienage, forbidding entry. They looked at one another and walked over to a guard stationed next to the gate.

"No entry!" he exclaimed, holding his hands up.

"But I'm from the Alienage!" Allis protested.

"I don't care if you're the Maker," the guard replied. "Nobody is to enter here, orders of Teyrn Loghain."

"Loghain?" Alistair cried. "What does he have to do with this?"

"It's for everyone's benefit," the guard explained. "After the riots, the Alienage was sealed off…"

"Riots?" Allis asked, clearly upset. "What happened?"

"One of them knife…I beg your pardon, one of them elves murdered the Arl of Denerim's son, he did," the guard replied. "Arl Howe sent his soldiers in to maintain order. The elves didn't take too kindly to it. Now no one is allowed in or out."

"But what about food? Supplies?" Allis asked.

The guard shook his head. "The Teyrn has washed his hands of them," he replied. "You'd best stay out of it. Safer for all concerned."

"I demand you let us in!" Allis cried, grasping his staff. "My family is in there!"

"Look around you," the guard replied, unconcerned. Alistair and Allis looked to the top of the City walls, where several archers had their bows trained on them. "But try your luck if you like," the guard said. "One more dead elf won't make a difference."

Alistair dragged Allis away by his arm. "I can't just do nothing, Alistair!" Allis said with panic in his voice.

"Shh," Alistair whispered, leading him away. "There must be another way in to the Alienage," he muttered. "We'll stay in Denerim for a while longer, and see what we can find out. Alright?"

"Alright," Allis replied, breathing heavily. "Thank you." He reached into his pocket and retrieved the rabbit's foot Blythe had slipped in when they parted company. _Let's hope you work_, he thought to himself.


	24. Trouble in Denerim

**Sorry it's been so long since the last update, I've been working on another story. **Shameless self-promotion alert** if you would like to see a darker side to Cullen, I've published a new story called 'The Enemy Within,' which tells the tale of how Cullen was left deeply disturbed after Uldred's revolt at the Tower.**

**Thank you Jen as always, for being an excellent Beta, and for being my cheerleader and 'worry wart' lol :D**

**~O~**

The Denerim guard detail changed shifts at 8pm. The night patrol came on duty and settled into their usual routine. More guards had been drafted in recently, since the trouble in the Alienage, and, as a result, many of those patrolling the city walls stood idle, as there was very little activity in the Alienage and the Market District at night.

Two men patrolling the walls overlooking the gates to the Alienage stood chatting. They'd been on duty for half an hour and already the conversation had started to deteriorate.

"So, what would you do if you saw one of them Archdemons, then?" a guard named Mervyn asked his colleague, Edwin.

"One of them?" Edwin replied. "How many are there, then?"

"I dunno," Mervyn shrugged. "I think one would be enough. What would you do?"

"Well, shit my smallclothes and cower on the floor, I expect," Edwin replied. "Why?" he snorted. "What would _you_ do, then?"

"I don't believe they exist," Mervyn scoffed. "I think it's something they made up to scare the children."

A ginger tomcat jumped down from the wall and approached the men, rubbing his head against Edwin's legs. "Aw, 'ello kitty," Edwin cooed, reaching into his pack for some food. "Want a bit of my pork pie, do you?" he said to the cat as he took a morsel out of his pack and crouched down. The cat took the proffered food gratefully.

"They're crafty buggers, these cats," he said with his back to Mervyn. "I bet he's been fed a dozen times already today." When no reply came, Edwin turned around. Mervyn lay flat on his back, snoring loudly.

"'Ere!" Edwin whispered, as he rose to his feet and walked over to Mervyn. "If the Captain catches you drunk on duty again, you'll be for it!" He leaned down and shook his fellow soldier roughly by the shoulders. "Wake up!" he hissed through gritted teeth.

Edwin, distracted by Mervyn and the cat, failed to see the movement in the shadows behind him, and gave out a muffled cry as a wet handkerchief was pressed firmly over his nose and mouth. He struggled briefly before succumbing, and collapsed, snoring, on top of Mervyn.

The mysterious assailant melted back into the shadows, as did the cat, who followed close behind.

~O~

Alistair, Allis and Anders sat in the Gnawed Noble tavern, eating and drinking quietly at a table near the bar. Anders cleared his plate, sat back with a sigh, and belched loudly. Alistair and Allis were still going. They were now on their third plate of food, and had been eating for 25 minutes solid, uninterrupted by unnecessary conversation. Reaper sat attentively next to their table, his eyes following every piece of food as it travelled from plate to mouth. Occasionally, he was rewarded for his persistence with a scrap from the table, and he barked joyfully as Anders tossed his mutton bone to the floor.

The doors to the tavern were thrust open as three city guards entered. Two of them were outfitted in standard iron chainmail and helms. The third was obviously a high-ranking officer; he wore a high quality suit of Veridium, and donned a red and black cape. One of the lower-ranking men stared at Allis as they approached the bar; Allis recognised him as the guard who had stopped him from entering the Alienage earlier.

Allis and Alistair sat facing away from the bar. "Tell me what they're doing, Anders," Allis whispered, "but don't make it obvious you're watching them."

Anders stretched his arms nonchalantly and feigned a yawn. "They're talking to the barkeep and looking over here," he mumbled. "Oh, yes," he said quietly. "They're definitely interested in us."

The finely-attired guard approached their table and spoke. "Please, forgive the intrusion, gentlemen," he said politely. "I am Seward, Captain of the Denerim guard. Might I ask of your movements this evening?"

"Well," Anders said dryly, patting his belly. "I haven't had a movement so far this evening, but I think after that meal, one may be imminent," he deadpanned.

Allis and Alistair sniggered. "You may ask, Captain," Allis replied, still chuckling. "We have nothing to hide. We have been here since sundown."

"Indeed," Seward nodded. "The Barkeep seems to confirm your story."

"Is something amiss, Captain?" Allis asked innocently as the other two guards approached.

"One of my men, Fulton, reported to me that you were quite eager to enter the Alienage earlier today," Seward replied, "and tonight, several of my guards patrolling the Alienage walls were found fast asleep."

"Perhaps you should give them more interesting duties, then," Alistair remarked as he crammed a slab of gravy-soaked bread into his mouth.

"Perhaps," Seward replied, cocking an eyebrow.

"What, you think I put them to sleep?" Allis asked with a furrowed brow.

"Well, you are a mage," Fulton retorted from behind Seward.

"I am indeed, Ser," Allis replied with feigned indignation, "but I am not so powerful I could send a legion of men to sleep from within here!"

"Are there no Templars in Denerim?" Anders asked. "Surely they could tell you whether or not magic had been used?"

"A Templar has already confirmed that magic was not employed," Seward replied.

"Well, then?" Allis asked with annoyance, shrugging his shoulders.

Seward glanced silently at all three men, his expression pensive. "Perhaps I should give you the benefit of the doubt," he said cautiously.

"No!" Fulton objected with a wave of his hand. "I don't believe him! He threatened me earlier, he did!"

"That's enough out of you," Seward scolded. "Sergeant Kylon spoke highly of these men, and I think we have disturbed them enough for one evening. My apologies, gentlemen," Seward said, "We shall take our leave of…"

"You mangy cur!" Fulton interrupted. The three men at the table fell about laughing as Reaper relieved himself against the guard's leg. "I'll teach you some manners!" Fulton cried, unsheathing a dagger. The three men were immediately on their feet, and a Longsword was pressed against Fulton's windpipe before he had time to blink.

"I wouldn't," Alistair threatened, his eyes flashing with intent.

"Any trouble, take it outside!" shouted the Barkeep.

"Gentlemen," Seward said as he stepped between Alistair and Fulton, pushing Alistair's sword away. "I can see you are not to be trifled with. Forgive us for interrupting your meal." With that, he turned and walked toward the exit, followed by his two men. Fulton cursed and shook his leg a few times on the way out.

"Good boy!" Allis laughed, ruffling the Mabari's head as they sat down. Reaper barked happily and resumed gnawing his mutton bone.

"Do you think he believed us?" Alistair mumbled.

"Does it matter?" Anders said indifferently. "He doesn't have any proof, does he?" he shrugged as he rose to his feet. "I'm going to have that _movement_, now, and if that Captain comes back, tell him I'll fill him in when I return."

~O~

Later that night, the three men sat around a table in Anders' room, playing card games. Occasionally they looked over to the door; Reaper lay next to it, his head cocked and his ears pricking up as he listened intently. His tail started to wag and he whined as he sprang to his feet, snuffling at the foot of the door.

A figure clad from head to toe in black entered, followed by a ginger cat. "Oh!" he exclaimed as he pulled off his hood. "All of that sweating will play havoc with my complexion!"

"Are you alright, Zevran?" Allis asked with concern as Anders fussed over Mr. Wiggums. "Did anyone give you trouble?"

"Trouble?" laughed Zevran. "You jest with me! I find it truly astonishing that the Capital City of Ferelden is defended by such witless oafs." He sat at the table and helped himself to some food that had been saved for him, returning a half-empty bottle of sleeping draught to Anders. Allis waited patiently for Zevran to finish, although he was desperate to know what he had discovered. Sensing this, Zevran stopped eating and turned to face the mage.

"I bring tidings," Zevran muttered, "none of which are good, my friend," he murmured, shaking his head sadly.

"Tell me," Allis demanded, bracing himself for the worst. Zev sighed and hung his head. "Come, on, Zevran!" Allis said impatiently.

"The Alienage is a wreck," Zev said quietly. "There have been several severe fires there, and many of the homes are uninhabitable." He didn't mention the untended corpses scattered throughout the area. "Some kind of hospital has been set up there," he continued, "but it is not for the wounded, I think. I heard mention of a 'plague' of some kind."

"A plague?" Allis asked sceptically. "Well, they couldn't hope to contain a plague just by closing the gates, could they?"

"And why didn't the guard at the gate mention that?" Alistair added. "He told us that the elves rioted after Arl Howe's men were sent in. There was no mention of a plague."

"Perhaps the guard was not informed of the plague?" Zevran suggested. "Would you stand guard where you were at risk of disease?"

Allis shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose not," he mumbled. Alistair placed a comforting hand on his back.

"Did you see any healers at the hospital?" Anders asked.

"Ah – I am coming to this," Zevran replied. "I saw several mages standing outside; whether they were healers or not, I do not know. However," he added, "they seemed more like guards to me, from the way they stood and watched."

"What about the Templars?" Alistair asked.

"Now this is the curious thing," Zev said with a frown. "From what I have gleaned from my handsome friend here," he said, gesturing to a grinning Anders, "any mage who leaves the Circle Tower either has a Templar accompanying them…"

"Several Templars," Anders interrupted.

"Si," Zev conceded with a shrug. "Or else, they are deemed an apostate," he continued. "But I did not see one Templar in attendance; in fact, it seemed to me that the mages were in charge."

"That doesn't sound right," Alistair muttered as Anders and Allis frowned in agreement.

"Also," Zev added, "the mages were…unusual."

"Unusual? In what way?" Allis asked.

"Well, they were different from you two, for a start," he replied. "They spoke in a very archaic fashion – even more so than the witch, Morrigan. Their robes were, well, strange; all dark blue and very heavily built up in the shoulders, with a long cloak behind. And," he added, "they wore strange headpieces – very long and tall, with a device embossed in silver at the front."

"Was it an open palm with a snake wrapped around it?" Alistair asked with narrowed eyes.

"Si, it was!" Zev exclaimed. "How did you…"

"Tevinters," Alistair concluded, shaking his head.

"Tevinters?" Allis asked doubtfully. "In Ferelden? How could they possibly hope to hide from the Templars?"

"I know," Anders agreed. "The Templars would have a field day if they knew they were here."

"Well, this is another thing," Zev said. "I am of the opinion that they have been allowed in. I, er…I think you shall find this news unsettling, my friend," he said to Allis. "I followed the city walls around the back alleys of the Alienage. There was a large warehouse there, and…" he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I saw several elves being taken out of the warehouse in shackles, and marched northward."

"What?" Allis mumbled, confused. "But that doesn't make any sense…especially if they had this 'plague.'"

"There _is_ no plague, is there?" Alistair said shrewdly.

"I don't understand…" Allis said quietly, his voice trailing off.

Zevran made a gesture to Anders, nodding his head toward the door. "I think I'd better let Mr. Wiggums out for a wee," Anders said, standing up and heading to the door with his cat. "Are you coming, Reaper?" he asked. The Mabari grunted and sat on his haunches.

"Oh, fair enough, then," said Anders as he and Zevran headed for the door.

"Thank you," Allis said quietly to Zevran. "Really, I mean it."

Zevran waved his hand dismissively and he and Anders exited, closing the door behind them.

~O~

As Zevran and Anders waited patiently for Mr. Wiggums to do his business, they looked at a house across the way. The lights were still on inside, despite the fact it was well after midnight.

"Isn't that Genitivi's house?" Anders wondered, "that scholar we have to go and see about the ashes?"

"Hm, I think so," Zevran replied. "Alistair said he lived opposite the tavern."

"Well, he's still up," said Anders. "Shall we go and pay him a visit, save those two from doing it?"

"Why not?" Zevran replied unenthusiastically. "I can think of nothing more exciting than hearing of the charred remains of an old woman."

"You don't think this will work, do you?" Anders asked as they walked over to the house.

Zevran sighed. "No, I do not," he replied. "I think it is a waste of time. And I am eager to use my blades. I fear I shall become rusty if I do not stab something soon!"

"So long as you don't use them on me!" Anders cried with mock horror. "And be careful what you wish for," he warned. "Sometimes things have a way of surprising you."

As they neared the house, they noticed that the front door was ajar. They exchanged a quick glance before Anders hesitantly pushed the door open. "Hello?" he called.

~O~

Blythe's party had at last been blessed with some favourable weather, and finally neared the summit of Gherlen's Pass. They came across a small market of sorts; several dwarves and a few Fereldans called out to the new arrivals, impressed by their fancy attire, and thinking them rich.

"Hoy!" called a shifty-looking Fereldan who beckoned them over. "The name's Faryn. Come and see my wares," he said proudly, with a bow. "New and nearly new stock. Weapons, armour and curiosities, all for your viewing pleasure."

"Well," Blythe said thoughtfully, "Leliana needs some arrows, and Sten could use a new sword. Have you any two handed swords heavy enough for a Qunari to wield?"

"Well, I have a couple," Faryn replied. "It's a real shame, though," he shrugged. "Just last week I sold a magnificent sword that once belonged to a Qunari."

"How did you come by this sword?" Sten asked sharply, suddenly taking a keen interest.

"Well," Faryn whispered, "don't tell no one, but I found it, see? Next to Lake Calenhad."

Faryn was suddenly lifted a foot into the air as Sten grabbed his collar. "Where is my sword!" he bellowed fiercely.

"Please!" Faryn cried, clearly terrified. "I swear to you, I don't have it no more! I sold it to this fella from Redcliffe! I swear by Andraste's knickers!"

"What was his name?" Blythe asked, gesturing for Sten to put the man down. Sten reluctantly complied, but continued to glower at Faryn.

"'E was a dwarf, by the name of Dwynn," Faryn replied, backing away from Sten.

"Dwynn?" Blythe murmured. "I know him. He helped us to defend Redcliffe. We had to pay him, though. He still lives." She turned to Sten. "When we return to Redcliffe, Sten, we will find your sword. I promise."

Sten seemed doubtful. "That may be an empty promise, Warden," he replied with a ghost of a smile on his lips. "But I thank you for the gesture, nonetheless."

"Why does the sword mean so much to you, anyway?" Blythe asked curiously. Although she liked Sten, she knew little of him. "If you don't mind me asking, that is?" she added cautiously.

Sten took her to one side as the others perused the stalls. A sudden exclamation from Blythe made them turn around. "That's terrible, Sten!" she cried in horror, backing away from him. Sten hung his head shamefully and murmured something the others couldn't hear. He had told her that he and his brothers had been attacked by darkspawn, leaving him as the only survivor. He was rescued by a farmer, whose family took him in. When he realised his sword was missing, he had slain the entire family in his grief and panic.

"My honour is forfeit," Sten said sadly. "I hope to seek atonement by ending the Blight with you and the other Wardens."

"D-did they know about this?" Blythe asked warily. "Allis and Alistair, I mean."

"The Templar knew," he replied, "as he petitioned the priestess for my release. As for the elf, I do not know. If you wish me not to accompany you," he added, "then you may release me, or slay me as you see fit. It matters not," he said heavily. "But I would like the chance to make amends."

Blythe thought carefully; she had to consider the safety of her companions, after all. But in spite of what he had just told her, she did not feel threatened by him; and believed that after Allis had defeated him at the Circle Tower, he was more biddable.

"You may continue to accompany us, Sten," she said quietly, "but we should keep what we have just spoken of to ourselves. If Cullen found out…"

"I understand, Warden," Sten replied. "Thank you."

~O~

Allis and Alistair sat side by side on the bed, talking. "So we're decided, then?" Alistair asked. "We go to the back of this warehouse and find out where the elves are being taken."

"There may be resistance, though, Alistair," Allis warned. "Zevran was there at night, remember. I'm sure there will be more guards during the day."

They looked up as the door opened. In walked Anders, carrying a stack of papers, followed by Zevran, who was drenched in blood.

"What in the world…" Alistair began.

"We decided to pay Brother Genitivi a visit," Anders explained, holding his hands up at their horrified expressions. "No, we didn't kill him!" he exclaimed. "He wasn't there. There was this bloke calling himself Weylon, who tried to send us in the wrong direction, but Zev knew he was lying and called his bluff."

"And, Zevran got his wish!" the assassin said happily, cleaning off his daggers.

Anders placed the papers on the table. "This is Genitivi's research," he explained as he spread the papers out. "Weylon tried to stop us from looking at it and attacked us. We found a dead body in the back, who I assume was Gentivi's assistant. Weylon was an impostor, and a powerful mage."

"It makes interesting reading," Zev added. "Genitivi was convinced that the ashes reside in a temple located in a town called Haven."

"Haven?" Alistair said doubtfully. "Never heard of it."

"There are directions here," Anders pointed out, "I'm not surprised you've never heard of it. It's not on any map of Ferelden."

"That's not far from Redcliffe," Allis noted as he perused the notes. "If we can get hold of the ashes…"

"_If _they even exist," Zevran said sceptically.

"Well, yes, if they do," Allis continued, "we can take them straight to Redcliffe. This may not take long at all," he said optimistically.

"We need to see what's happening to the elves first, though," Alistair replied.

"But, what about Eamon?" Allis asked.

"This is more important," Alistair said decisively. "This is your family we're talking about. It would be nice if one of us found our family," he added sadly.

"Oh, Alistair," Allis said sadly as he wrapped his arms around the Templar, leaning his head on Alistair's shoulder.

"I think this is my cue to leave," Zevran said, rolling his eyes.

"Erm, mine too," Anders concurred. "It's just that…well, this is _my_ room, if you don't mind…"

Allis and Alistair laughed and rose from the bed. "Sorry, Anders," Allis grinned. "We'll all meet up in the morning, and finalise our plan."

They all bade each other goodnight, and left Anders and Mr. Wiggums in peace.


End file.
